


The Gilded-tipped Arrow

by thecapefangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Drama, M/M, Mystery, Mythology - Freeform, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-03-09 12:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecapefangirl/pseuds/thecapefangirl
Summary: In the small town of Arrowsmith, Kansas, murders have been afoot. Newly-weds and couples have been murdered without rhyme or reason, especially strange when their Annual Festive of Love has taken place. Sam, Dean and Cas take it into their own hands to find out the strange happenings of the town. (Taken place after Episode 15, Season 13) Destiel





	1. Chapter One

Totally made up Arrowsmith. Because I can, I suppose.

XXX

"So, get this..."

Dean held up his hand to quiet his brother, the other gripping tightly to a cup of coffee. "No, Sammy, don't continue with another word of that sentence."

Sam turned his head to face his hungover brother. Dean was wearing his subdued grey-green gown, discoloured from spills and splotches from Chuck-knows-what. The ruffled-up mess of his hair and the purple bags under his eyes suggested exactly what happened the night before.

"Dean...what is going on?" Sam put the laptop screen down. Something was off about Dean, but then again, ever since Mary and Jack had disappeared through the portal to Apocalypse realm, he had not been dealing with mundane tasks in a relaxed demeanour.

They just managed to grasp their hands on the blood of a holy man, yet they still had a hell of a way to go to get the fruit from the Tree of Life, the Seal of Solomon and grace from an archangel. It may have been a slight achievement, yet they had quite a way to go to completely cross the mountain.

"Nothin', I am fine," Dean grumbled into his mug. This was a giant lie, Sam knew it, Dean knew it; Sam knew that Dean knew it and vice versa, but in situations like these, Sam knew that he continually hit the same brick wall if he tried to chip away at Dean's thoughts.

"Alright then, we have a new case that popped up."

"Does it have something to do with helping Mom and Jack?" Dean interrupted.

"No..." Sam said.

"Then we will call another hunter to help them." Dean took a huge slip of his coffee before slamming it onto the table. He got up and turned on his heel to go back into the depths of the bunker.

Dean, as everyone knows, has patience shorter than a Playboy Model's skirt. To him, the world does not matter, nor the other people in it. Only until his family could be rescued would the black and white of the dimension around him start to form shapes to his eye. Dean would be himself only when he would be distracted by something important.

"Dean, look," Sam followed him. "I know waiting is crap. I want to go out and find Mom and Jack too, but you have to be patient. Cas has already begun the search for the Fruit and soon we will get the rest from the British Men of Letters, but for now, we must do what we always have done: hunt."

His brother stopped, shoulders relaxed and head bowed down. The dim glow emanating from his room from the half-closed door seemed so much more appealing than to face another day out in the real world, but life moves on, and so shall he.

"Alright then." He turned around to face Sam. Sam could see the useless weight of the mission he was holding on his back through his green eyes. "But if it means we have to deal with another bunch of rich-ass gangsters with words coming out the other side of their mouth, I am gone before you can say 'I will buy the pie.'"

XXX

Arrowsmith, Kansas

"Let me get this right: you are telling me that the people in this town are suddenly murdering each other because...love? Like the time Famine rolled into town, and people started to eat each other?"

The brothers were nearing towards a small town, no more than six hundred people at the most, two hundred miles east of the bunker. It was practically a ghost town with still houses, quiet parks and one grey block of a building that had a giant sign saying 'Arrowsmith Elementary School'. For an elementary school, it had the same appeal of a prison courtyard.

"This time it is different. According to this article, in the space of a week, three couples were murdered in their own home, except for one woman, a Mrs Smith-Pearson, who barely survived the fight. She is currently unconscious in the nearest hospital which is in the next town."

"Anything else?" Dean asked as he turned his car into an abandoned parking lot by a strip mall. It was too eerie that there was not a single soul around. Not. Even. One.

"Nothing much I can get from the article, except that all of these couples were newly-engaged or married. No children, it seems."

Sam and his brother opened up their respective doors and allowed a few seconds of silence to settle around them. Dean was the first one to break the silence.

"Well, it could be a serial killer. Not our kind of job." Dean locked his car to walk over to Sam. "But I suppose it couldn't hurt to find out more about them. But first, we should find out if there is anyone here to help us. Abandoned houses are livelier than this place."

XXX

After ten minutes of wandering around, Sam and Dean found the source of the silence.

There were most of the locals were not on the streets because it was apparently the 'Annual Festival of Love'.

Every year, it seemed, that instead of traditionally celebrating Valentine's Day, like the rest of the normal, human world, the locals thought of a fun festival that lasted a week. Abandoning all of the Christian lore, they have taken to celebrate the trials of Psyche and her journey to find Cupid or Eros. Each day of the week, they take part in fun little activities for partners to prove their love to each other, or in an older fashion way, trying to attract potential partners. Fortunately, they did not go as extreme as what Psyche had to go through. Mainly it was finding flags in the woods, competing for competitions and at the end of the week, a Love fair for everyone to enjoy, for the young single men and women to find love if they caught each other's eye.

This was explained to Sam and Dean through the animated gestures of the Town's Sheriff, John Anderson.

The brothers caught up to him on their way to the police station to get the full, proper story behind the murders, but instead, they got one man about to leave on his week of break.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you." The grinning man greeted the brothers. 

"I am Detective Potter" Dean started as both him and his brother pulled out fake IDs, "and this is my partner, Detective Granger. We were sent to investigate the murders here."

Sheriff Anderson's face fell. He grabbed his coat quickly. "As much as they are important, my wife is waiting at home. This week is the Annual Festival of Love, don't you know."

"Sorry...what?" Sam held out his hand to stop the man from going further.

The Sheriff explained the above. He said that the murders could wait until tomorrow. It was not like they were going anywhere, but if the boys wanted to stay and do a full examination of the bodies, they may, but they had to lock up the place tight.

"Thank you, Sheriff," Dean said, shaking the man's hand. "But aren't you afraid of more criminals out there.

Anderson laughed. "Not even the hardest of souls dare to commit a crime this week." The twinkle in his eye made it sound less of a joke and more of a threat. The way the man looked made the brothers feel incredibly uncomfortable.

Before Anderson exited the building, "Say, gentlemen, if you two do have some love waiting at home for you, I suggest you go to her. Tonight is the one night it all matters." He gave them a wink before leaving.


	2. Chapter Two

Dean and his brother donned the surgical apron and latex gloves. Around them were the most recent victims: Ray Harrison and his wife Georgina. The rest of the victims were tucked away in the lockers awaiting a second opinion.

The morgue was what most morgues looked like: depressing, cold and the stench of death covering them, but the room had not been in use for such a long time that a thick layer of dust covered the surfaces, the corners were homes for spiders and there was one working light that barely gave them enough to work with. They could see that desk lamps were placed on the slabs to examine the body. Even the lockers were a bit rusted from neglect, never mind that there were only three of them and the other two bodies covered in a thin sheet of green.

"Didn't he seem strange to you?" Sam said as he wheeled the surgical implements next to Ray Harrison.

"Who?"

"The Sheriff. He seemed kinda...I don't know...twitchy. Like he is hiding something."

Dean picked up the magnifying glass. It was true: something was off about the policeman. Maybe Jody knew him and could give something on his background. 

He shrugged his shoulders. "I s'pose so." 

Sam awaited an explanation, something added on to his previous statement, but Dean was silent as he started to examine the body.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Sam asked. He understood that his brother was struggling with this situation, but on that day, that day specifically, he was acting strange. More closed off than he would usually be; more nervous is probably a better word for it.

"Fine." Dean shrugged his shoulders again and gave a glace towards his brother that suggested that the conversation was over. Sam knew better than to push him.

The boys continued to work in silence, occasionally making a remark now and again towards the similarities between the victims, or asking to pass over a scalpel. Each of the five bodies were examined in great depth.

About an hour later, after bodies have had the usual supernatural once over to determine if something unhuman, like a vampire or a werewolf, killed them, and the coroner's report being examined, the two came together to identify the exact nature of the death.

"So far three of the five have gunshot wounds. Janie Addison and Byron Hughes, the newly engaged couple, both were shot with the same type of bullet, a .44 Magnum as the report says. Ray Harrison was killed with a shotgun as there were shells on the floor. The other two, Fae Smith-Pearson, wife to the woman currently in hospital, drowned and Georgina Harrison died by smacking her head on the table." Sam went around to each cadaver and pointed to the causes of death.

"Ok, so nothing unusual." Dean said.

"It is kind of unusual, Dean, especially since this town has had a reputation of being the most crimeless town in Kansas. They barely die here naturally, never mind murders. A coroner from the next town had to be sent here. And now suddenly six people were assaulted and only one of them survived."

Dean reluctantly nodded his head. Sam makes a good point, he thought. But it was not the fact that Sam was right that annoyed him: he had way gone past being annoyed by that. It wasn't even the thought of Mary and Jack now in a world in which they may or may not be alive. It was not that he wasn't currently looking for a way to help them out at that moment in time that frustrated it him. It was...

"Dean? Are you sure you are ok?"

Dean snapped out of his thoughts, remembering the case at hand.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe a bit tired." He rubbed his eyes.

"Alright, well we still have a few things to do before any sleep. In the case file of the suspects, there were no crimes recorded from any of them and they were well-respected citizens of the town. So, nothing in here has an actual cause for hate. We should speak to the locals. They are all gathered for the festival, so it might actually be easy for us."

"And tomorrow we check out Sadie Smith-Pearson, see how much she remembers."

Sam nodded. There was only so much one could do with forensics, they should know that. And alive witness would confirm if she recognised them or not. But all now they could do is too see how much the drunk locals in the centre of town were willing to spill. He wouldn't mind a drink of his own.

The brothers began to pack away the mess they made around them. As Sam covered up the body of Janie Addison, he accidently knocked over a tray with the surgical tools on it. With an annoyed sigh he bent down to pick up them, not knowing that as he reached for the tweezers picking them up, he knocked over the lamp next to him. With a clang, it hit the floor, blocking the lamp's light from the slab.

"Oh, my God, Sam!" Dean called out from across the room. The sound of his footsteps echoed across the room.

"I am fine, Dean. I just fell."

"No, I mean, oh my God Sam I think we got something."

Sam picked himself off the floor, leaving all of items scattered across the floor. He was face to face with a dimly lit Dean and body. His brother's face was one of shock and awe as he looked down on the chest of Ms Addison. And he had every right to do so.

Over her heart, just below the bullet wound, a golden swirl of letters dimly ebbed, as if it were the last remnants of her heartbeat. The letters were not English nor any language they had seen, maybe Enochian. It certainly did not seem of Earth.

"What is that?" Dean whispered.

"There is only one way to find out."

Sam picked up the scalpel off of the floor and cut into her chest. He gave her soul a silent apology, before reaching into the wet, squishy insides and picked out her heart. It wasn't difficult to find, since the glowing ebb grew stronger as the flesh was cut away.

Her heart resembled the one they found on that Valentine's Day all of those years back, yet it felt different. The heart that they found then was cold and dead, but this one still felt alive and strong.

Dean and Sam gave each other a look before running to the other bodies. Sam, of course dropped the glowing heart on the table as he went to turn off the lights. Dean did all of the smaller ones. One, by one, now each of the lights extinguished, the other body of Georgina lit up like a Christmas Tree, instead it was silver than gold. Byron Hughes was the same. Fae Smith-Pearson shone a bright gold. Ray Harrison was the only one without the symbols around his heart.

After the lights came on again, Sam gave his 'I told you so' look, with his ungloved arms crossed.

"Don't say it." Dean said. "Whatever you do, don't say it."

"Well, I suppose Cas will hear about it then. He would love to know that there is a rogue cupid around here."

Dean winced a little, but meeting Sam's curious eye, he decided to cover it with a "I banged my foot on the table."

Sam flipped open his phone and dialled his friend, while Dean hurried up with the last bit of packing away.

"Hey Cas...yes, it is Sam...no we are not in trouble, but back here we are doing a case where we think a rogue angel has been here. A cupid to be exact...yes...same markings and everything, except they glow in the dark and can be seen through the victims' skin...do you really think it is necessary to come back...? Oh, ok, I understand. See you tomorrow night then...ok...bye."

Sam switched off his phone and put it in his pocket. "It looks like Cas is interested in this as much as we are. He will meet us here tomorrow night.

A panic expression covered his brother's face. "Surely he should rather be staying and searching for the fruit instead of being with us. I mean, Mom's and Jack's lives are at stake here."

"I know, Dean, but he sounded quiet adamant over the phone. Angels have been dying in numbers since Lucifer touched this Earth, and, no matter how psychotic this cherub might be, he needs them. Heaven needs him. He just might be the extra fuel for our fire that we need, ok. Help us out in the long run, ok."

"Ok." Dean said. His voice sounded like he was restraining something, like an emotion or a sentence. 

The silence was uncomfortable for a while until Dean said in one of his cheery voices. "Well, I suppose waiting for Cas here would be a bit useless. Why don't we go and see if there is a pie stand near us? I am frikken starving."


	3. Chapter Three

Castiel threw his phone onto the bed in the dingy hotel room he was staying in. Even angels had to find a place to rest now and again.

He rubbed his face as he sat at the edge of the bed. In a way, and horrible awful way, he was glad his wings had been clipped. This meant he could delay getting back to Kansas and dealing with the real problem he had left with.

"Another insane angel." He whispered to only himself. "Heaven is unstable as it is. The last thing I need is another psychopathic angel bent on murdering people. You would actually think that they would realise the situation we are in, but no."

At least it is one less thing to worry about when he was sorted. But the thing that confused Cas was that the Enochian engravings in the heart never glow that brightly, especially after death. Did he know that when touched by the cupid, the hearts tend for a second to glow as like any type of written Enochian symbol, but extended for this long? That was unheard of.

"Well, I better get going." He said to himself, packing the small number of things he had with him. "It's not like I had much success with the pomegranate."

XXX

Unfortunately, it had been the same with Sam and Dean back in America with the murders of the couples.

The festival had only brought them drunken gossip about where Marie got her toy boy, and how ugly the Jacksons painted their house, (one does not paint one's house yellow, don't you know).

It seemed that no-one wanted to talk about the murder vics. The once well-regarded, upstanding citizens of Arrowsmith were now the most taboo conversation to bring to the table. Almost like bringing up the subject of sex in a religious household. Even when Sam and Dean flashed their fake id's, the people would just scuttle away like frightened rats.

At least Dean got his beer and apple pie.

They were sitting on a bench after a fruitless evening of questions. Dean finally flashed a smile of satisfaction after each bite out of the crispy crust of the pie.

"Ya know, Sam, when we actually die, like no return back to earth die, and depending on if Heaven hasn't collapsed by then, I would live in a huge mansion with every room filled with this pie, and at the end of the day, it would be replenished again. And I would be feed by topless Playboy Models…"

Sam snorted. He quickly tried to hide it with a cough, but that didn't fool Dean.

"What about that is funny?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Nothing…nothing at all."

"Nah, Sam, that was something. What about my dream is funny?"

"Well, you and I have both been in Heaven, and you know that is not what is going to happen…"

"Hey, can't a man dream?"

"…And second," Sam ignored Dean's interruption, "I know Playboy Models are not the only thing you want to see topless."

Dean blanched. He dropped the last bit of his pie on his lap, crumbs everywhere. "What the hell does that mean?"

Sam raised his eyebrow. "You know exactly what, or rather, whom I am talking about."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I love me Playboy Models." Dean got up and shook off all of the crumbs on his lap. He began to walk quickly towards the '76 Chevy Impala

"That is not what I am talking about. Dean!" Sam followed suit, matching the same speed as him. His long legs strode in front of his brother and stopped him before he could get further. He clutched Dean's shoulders to stop him from continuing.

"Sam," Dean whispered through clenched teeth. "Let me go!"

"No. Dean, I allow you to repress your feelings because I know at some point when you are emotionally ready, you will break down in a puddle of tears, usually a year or two at the most. Not for ten years!"

There was a continue throwing back and forth of denial and truth. They were so busy in their conversation that they didn't notice a young boy, about thirteen years, watching them carefully behind a curtain of blond curls. He had a red heart lollypop in his mouth.

He walked up to the arguing brothers, licking the sweet syrup from the heart, and just stared.

It took a few minutes before Dean noticed the kid standing three feet away from them.

"What is it, kid?" Dean said sharply, "haven't you seen two men fighting before."

"Are you the police officers asking about the dead couples?" The child said, not noticing the bitterness in the older brother's voice.

Sam and Dean gave each other a look before turning back to the child. "Yeah, we are."

"Hi, my name is Eric Curio. My mom and dad said I should not be talking to strangers, especially if they are asking about them."

"Ok, Eric, why shouldn't you talk about them?"

Eric turned his head to look left and right before leaning in.

"You promise you won't tell?" He whispered.

Sam and his brother gave each other a look before both saying, "We promise."

The kid licked the pop before starting.

"Well, I heard mom and dad talking about Mrs and Mr Harrison when they thought I was asleep. Mom said that, apparently, Mrs Harrison was seeing Mr Harrison's brother, Aryan Harrison. Mom said she wouldn't be surprised if Mr Aryan Harrison got annoyed that Mrs Harrison was still with his brother and he killed him and her."

Another suck on his lollypop.

"And exactly, where is this Aryan Harrison?"

"Um…" the boy shuffled his feet.

Sam put his hand on Eric's shoulder. "You can tell us. We won't tell anyone."

Eric took a deep breath in. "Dad said that he is hiding out in Lebanon until this whole thing is over..."

"Eric Curio!" A screech was heard behind the boy.

The three looked up to be faced by a man and a woman. The man had a thick sweep of black hair, tanned and looked like he was a bodybuilder. The woman had natural blonde hair with red highlights. Her face was mesmerisingly beautiful, but there was something in it that made the boys fear a bit.

Eric hopped up onto his feet. "Mom, Dad!"

"Eric, what were you doing here? What did I tell you?"

"Um, don't leave your sight and don't talk to strangers, Mom." He repeated off by heart. A sound of shame was in his voice, but no sound of regret was heard.

"That is what I thought. Come with me." She grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away. He barely had time to turn around and give them a wave before disappearing into the thick crowd.

Only the father was left.

"You must excuse my wife. She has been a little high-strung since the murders have happened." He put out his hand. "Marcus Curio and my wife is Venessa."

"Detectives Potter and Granger." Dean and Sam shook his hand respectively. His grip was strong, too strong.

"Like the Harry Potter characters?"

"Um, yeah, we get that a lot."

Marcus smiled. "Well Potter and Granger, nice to meet you, and I have to apologise for my wife again. I better go before she disappears again."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd.

"That family makes us look normal," Dean said.


	4. Chapter Four

Dean fumbled with the keys in the ignition. Cas was to arrive in a few hours and Dean was not mentally prepared to face him again.

Sam did not bring up the subject again after the kid Eric was pulled away by his parents, and to Dean, that was a relief. Now that they had a lead this meant that their minds would be focused on finding this Aryan Harrison. On the other hand, Sam was not talking to him at all, unless it was a few words exchanged about the case at hand. Well, words maybe aren't the appropriate term to describe the situation. More like grunting a response to whatever Dean asked.

Sam just didn't understand, did he now? He did not understand what it meant if he just opened himself up. Bad things happen when one opens one's heart to someone, especially in a situation like they had. And anyway, he did a fine job to prevent anything happening. After the fight he and Cas had before Cas left to find the Fruit, he would not be surprised if Cas spoke to him at all.

What have I done? Dean thought as he gently turned on the car. The two people that matter most at the moment are not talking to me, all because of my stupid, unnecessary feelings.

But that didn't matter. Dean had tasked himself to find this Aryan Harrison and to learn what exactly happened to the Harrisons and if the rumours were true or not. Did he really kill his brother because of jealousy? or was it just a misunderstanding between him and the rest of the little town of Arrowsmith.

XXX

As Dean pulled up into town, there was only one place he could think of to start finding out about the suspect: the most popular bar in town. Luckily for Dean, he had a friendly relationship with the barman, and the best place to get all of the gossip is from the barman.

The Woodcutters Arms was wide open and bustling with the regulars, even though it had barely hit noon. The town drunk was already on his third bottle, the rebel teen love interests had already snuck in for their first unofficial date, the barman, Shaun, already had customers piling up for his infamous apple cider. I say infamous because it had been banned in the state already for being an incredibly potent drink. Legend has it, that a child mistook it for apple juice, had a small sip and nearly went into a coma.

Anyway, Dean strode up to the counter, nudging a few men away to get to the barman. They were so drunk that they did not even take offence to such an action. They grinned at him inanely. Dean gave an uncomfortable smile back before he signalled Shaun.

"Ahh, me favourite customer." Shaun's Irish accent seemed out of place in such a town, yet it fitted right in. "What can I do fer yah?" He leant in and whispered in a confidential voice. "Is it Iris? She asked fer yah, yah know? Especially after yeh little date a few nights before."

Dean's stomach turned. He had forgotten about his one-night stand with Iris, the waitress. It was right after Cas left and Dean felt a need to…relieve his anger if you know what I mean. The waitress had been flirting with him since he first walked into the bar, and he figured she would happen to be the best person for that moment. It was cruel, and he knew it, but a little insecure part of him wanted to confirm a niggling doubt in his mind.

"Uh, no, that is for a later time. I need a little information."

Shaun uncapped a beer for Dean, "Oh, yeah. What exactly do ya need?"

"I was hoping you had a little background about a man who recently moved here. Name Aryan Harrison."

Shaun raised his eyebrow. "Is tat so?" He wiped the counter but did not lose eye contact with Dean.

He nodded, taking a sip from the bottle. "Yeah. So, can you tell me something about him or not?"

Shaun looked left and right as if that didn't look conspicuous enough with the multitude of people there.

"Well, me memory is a bit blank at the moment. I might be reminded if…"

Dean slid a hundred-dollar bill without question. "Just tell me what you can."

The barman pocketed the bill and leant in close. "Well, Aryan happens to come by regularly. Sometimes with a bird by his side, but lately I have only seen him once, alone, lookin' like death. He paid off his tab and without another word, left. Methinks he is out in his cabin in the forest, hiding from something. Maybe the lady's husband, I know she was married to another bloke, found about it and is right mad about it. But what do I know?"

Shaun leant back and continued to serve his illegal drink to those who asked. Not another word was said between the two, but that was all he needed to know where to go next.

"Thanks, man." He downed the drink before he paid and left.

XXX

Sam was on the other side in Arrowsmith. He was going to continue with trying to find information from Sadie Smith-Pearson. But to Sam, the only information he really wanted was from why his brother was the way he was. He simply could not understand why Dean acted all secretive about it when he clearly overheard the fight Dean and Castiel had just before the angel left.

There was something between the two that pissed him off more than anything in the world. It was a shot in the dark the night before, confronting Dean like that. The truth is that he really did not what Dean felt, but there was something within Sam that told him there was something more to those casual glances and sarcastic responses. There just has to be!

But that was a problem for a later date. At that moment the only thing that was on his mind was the women in the hospital.

XXX

Sadie Smith-Pearson was barely conscious when Sam Winchester, or Detective Granger, entered the room.

The sunlit room emphasised the number of tubes filled with glimmering liquid entering her system. The bandaged slash on her forehead and the bruised patches on her skin were evidenced enough of the situation she founded herself in.

The consistent beeping of the heart monitor raised changed to quicker, sharper notes when Sadie saw Sam with his fake FBI badge. Her eyes widened in fear and her chest rose and fell at a tremendous pace.

"It is alright Mrs Smith-Pearson, I am just here to ask a few questions about the death of your wife."

There was no response from the still woman, only tears from dull eyes her dripped down her cheek. She had to be about twenty-five, but the creased lines on her face told Sam that mentally she was about a hundred and twenty-five.

"Look, I know how it feels to lose someone you love. It has happened to me more times I care to count, but the only way we are going catch the person who did this is by any information you can give to me. Absolutely anything will help."

Silence.

Sam sighed. Today was just not the day. Emotions were still raw, and words cannot be spoken without breaking into tears.

He turned on his heel and walked towards the door. Just, though, as his foot touched over the line a weak voice from behind him said:

"Gary."

"Excuse me?" Sam turned his head to face the girl.

"Gary Tucker. He…he was the on-ne who killed Fae."

"Your wife?"

She nodded. Sam retraced his steps back to the woman in the bed. A nod towards the visitor's chair from her and Sam was already sitting attentively.

"It was about a week ago. My wife and I had a friend come over for lunch, Ozzy Tucker, Gary's husband. We were starting a boarding house for young, abused children who were kicked out of their house by their parents because of their gender or sexuality. Usually, Gary would have joined us, but he wasn't there that day, not even his husband knew why. Only an hour into lunch we heard the doorbell ring." Sadie took a deep breath in. "And Gary was outside the door. I continued to talk to Oz when I heard a scream from inside the house. Ozzy and I ran to see the problem and I saw Gary there, with a spade and…and a furious glint in his eye. On the floor was my Fae, barely conscious with blood pouring down her face.

"'Gary, what the hell!?' Ozzy screamed. 'What has gotten into you?'

"He grinned a grin that I would never be able to get out of my mind.

"'Nothing! I have never been saner in my life! But I am angry. I am angry at the fact that you have been taking a great interest with the new counter-boy down at Dawn's Bakery.'

"'What are you talking about?' Oz replied.

"This was when Gary went on about Ozzy having an affair with the new assistant, Alex, down at the bakery. Oz kept denying it. Oz said that they sell the best doughnuts in the state, but that is all. Of course, Gary did not believe him.

"That was when he noticed me. He shouted at me, saying what was I looking at. He became even more erratic and without warning, he swung the spade at me. The next time I woke up was the next morning when no-one was home. The only sound was the sound of gushing water. I went upstairs and…and…and."

"And what?" Sam asked gently.

"Water everywhere; the tap still running. And my dear wife, in the overflooded tub. All…all…" she took a deep breath. "All bloated. She was floating on the surface. I screamed, called 911, and fell on the floor. The next thing is that I am here, alive, but no reason to be."

Sam nodded. He felt the same way when Dean went to hell. He felt absolutely dead inside, yet he knew the only way to continue was to move on, but that was the last thing he wanted to tell the grieving widow.

"Thank you for your time, Mrs Smith-Pearson…"

"It is just Pearson now, Detective. Ms Pearson."

"Thank you, Ms Pearson. And if you can remember something else, no matter how insignificant, just call this number." Sam pulled out a card with one of the many numbers he had.

XXX

It was the fourth hour on the aeroplane when Castiel felt the sharp pain in his stomach again. It was not a physical wound, more an internal, sickening feeling, yet it was a ticklish feeling as well. It happened whenever he thought of going home or seeing the brothers again.

This was strange, for an angel never felt pain like this. When he had lost his powers and purely human, he had felt pain like it, but usually, it was when he ate something that disagreed with him or thought of the next move. Or Dean.

He groaned a little, much to the surprise of the lady next to him. It had happened again. She asked if he was alright, he said he was just feeling a bit sick.

"You must be a first-time flyer. I remember also being nervous the first time." She had a kind voice.

Cas turned to her, "Excuse me?"

"I said that I was also nervous the first time I went up in the air. It was a twelve-hour flight, but I was scared to even bare a glance at the food served to me in fear I would be sick."

Nervousness? Is that what this is? What do I have to be nervous about?

The image of Dean popped into his head and the swirl of nausea tumbled around his lower stomach.

"I must say, it has affected you more than it did me. Wait! I think I might have something to help you."

The lady picked up her bag from the floor and dug through it. She pulled out a small bottle of white tablets.

"Have one of these. They knock you out before you can say 'thank you'."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I am sure they will not solve the problem." Cas wrung his hands. He knew that nothing would come out of human-made medicine.

The lady shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourself, but they are always here if you need one."

The only medicine that would work, is to not face what is in front of me at all.


	5. Chapter Five

Sam and Dean reconvened in the Men of Letter's bunker to discuss the information they got that day, and, of course, to wait upon Cas.

Dean fidgeted one of the blades in front of him as he was retold of the story that Sam found out. He, though, was not listening to a single word he said. The staircase with the giant concrete door held more interest than whatever Sam was saying, and Sam was clever enough to notice it.

"You know, Dean, looking at the door will not make Cas arrive quicker."

At the sound of the angel's name, Dean jumped in his seat.

"What?"

"I said looking at the door will not make Cas arrive quicker."

"I wasn't looking at the door," Dean said defensively. It did not hide the blushing in his cheeks.

"Uh-huh, so tell me exactly what I told you." Sam leant back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"You visited the vic, and…er…you found out information about what was going on in her side of the story."

"Yeah, what exactly did I find?"

"Well, you found out the killer was some gay dude or something. Look, that is not important…what is important is that two sources were saying that the murders were done by different killers. The guy that I interviewed said that Aryan Harrison was hiding out in the forest nearby Lebanon."

Dean thanked Chuck for the fact that he could distract Sam with information. It was his Kryptonite.

"I don't get it. I just don't get it. None of the evidence that was given to us connects. The only obvious link is that they had all been shot with a cupid's arrow, but the murderers are different people…I just don't get it!"

Sam walked to the kitchen for another beer. I suppose we can only see what happens when Cas comes. I hope it is soon.

XXX

Cas stood in front of the Bunker door. Every step forward forced his stomach to ache just a minute bit more. Nervous or not, this case was not about him, it was about the angel out there, causing more trouble every second he hesitated.

With another deep breath in, he opened the door.

XXX

Dean was in the middle of his third drink when he heard the familiar sound of the heavy concrete dragging open. The sudden sound in the silence gave his heart a mini shock. His hand jerked a bit, forcing the liquid to travel down his windpipe. He dropped the bottle, spattering the beer on the ground as he coughed it up.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Was the first thing he heard from Cas.

Dean avoided his eyes away from the angel, waving him off.

"Yeah, fine." Cough, "just got a fright. SAM! CAS IS BACK!"

Loud footsteps resounded throughout the hall. The shaggy-haired Sam appeared around the corner with an unopened beer in his hand.

"Cas!" He put the bottle on the table and leaned in for a hug. "Thank God you are back. Just in time."

Sam was about to explain the situation when his phone buzzed.

"Excuse me." He pulled it out of his back pocket. "Hello…oh…Sadie Pearson…you have something else for me…? You want me to meet you…? Alright, I will be there as fast as I can…?"

He ended the call, putting his phone back into his pocket.

"Sadie Pearson called. She said that she has more information pertaining to the case. Dean, you can show Cas the hearts while I do that."

Dean felt his stomach contorting. This would be the first time since the fight he would be alone with the angel. He did not feel comfortable with this arrangement at all. But if he protested, Sam would ask why, and he couldn't tell him the truth, especially in front of Cas. This would only spur the awkward conversation quicker than he wanted.

"That sounds good," Dean uttered. "Good plan. I will drop you off at the hospital on the way to the morgue."

XXX

The whole ride was relatively quiet, except for Sam who took the time to catch Cas up on everything that they had found.

"But that does not make any sense. Why would the murders be specifically those who had been touched by the angels?"

"That is exactly what we said. We were hoping that you could tell us from the hearts of the vics."

"I hope that this case is a bit more successful than the Fruit."

"How is that going…?"

Sam and Cas chattered on about the main case while Dean focused only the road ahead. The chattering in the back phased into fuzzy, white noise. One would think that he would care more about freeing Jack and Mary from Apocalypse World, but his heart was not in it. For the first time, he was thinking about the present, more specifically within the next hour. How can he keep this up? For how long and why is he even bothering?

The hospital came into sight, Dean wanted to slow down to crawl to delay the inevitable. But maybe the best way to get through this was to fast forward it till they found the reason then Cas can go back to where ever he was before. That way there would be no time to deal with his…ugh…feelings.

"Just drop me off here. I will call when I am done."

"Ok."

Dean barely gave Sam a chance to exit the car before he started to pull off again. Sam noticed it and could not help to smile to himself. This would be extremely interesting to watch, but he had more important things to worry about.

He spun on his heel and turned to the Arrowsmith Hospital.

XXX

Dean stepped onto the gas to drive to the destination quicker. He turned on some Kansas to the loudest he could put it without bursting his eardrums.

Carry on, my wayward sooooooonnn.

There'll be peace when you are doneeeeee.

Yeah right, there is never peace when we are done. Just more crap happens.

Baby arrived at the police station in record time. Dean dug around for his badge before slamming the door. He didn't even care if he locked Cas in the car. He just wanted this done.

The police station was a great deal colder than the outside. The stench of Death was all around him. He wouldn't be surprised if Billy was watching him through her cold brown eyes.

"Hello, Detective. Surprised to see you back so soon."

Sheriff Anderson was doing paperwork behind the front desk when Dean opened up the door.

"Yeah, well, we brought in a specialist to help us with the case. This is Detective Weasley, one of the best of the best when it comes to this stuff."

A flustered Cas with messed up hair barged through the door at that moment. Anderson raised his eyebrow at the sight of the man in the suit, before returning to his work.

"Why do your names sound familiar?"

"We get that a lot. Anyway, may we take a second look at the bodies."

"Sure," the Sheriff said, not bothering to look in their direction. "You know where it is."

XXX

Dean marched on ahead to the morgue, ignoring his friend at the back. He did not bother to turn on the lights, which, to an outside viewer was comical. Cas, with all his angelic powers, could not see where each slab was and hit into it.

One by one, he pulled out each of the bodies, still in the same state as they were the day before, even the light shining in the chest was still going strong.

"Look at these," Dean said as he slid on gloves and dug into the chest of Janie Addison. The heart he brought out was decorated with golden carvings. Cas, without bothering with hygiene rules, took the heart out of Deans hands and inspected it closely.

"These are not from one of our cupids. The magic is too strong and the words are written in Ancient Greek not Enochian. The words are also instead of scars, solid gold."

He turned the heart around 360 degrees. "And the heart has an actual arrow hole in it from which the words originated from."

Dean looked up at Castiel's profile. The angel was beautiful. "What exactly does it say?"

"It is a sentence… 'The heart of this soul is pierced with the gilded-tipped arrow.' And it has a kind of a signature at the bottom, which I can't decipher."

"And what about this one?" Dean swapped the heart of Addison with the heart of Byron Hughes, her fiancé.

"This is the same language as the other heart, but the description is different. 'The heart of this soul is pierced with the lead-tipped arrow.' And as it says, the inscription is written in lead."

"Brilliant, so we are back to square one. Who the hell knows is out there doing this to us!?"

"Whatever it is, it means to harm. This is from something ancient and powerful."

"Well, then. I suppose that means we have to call Sam. Ya know him and his books. Let's go."

Dean quickly began to pack up, not daring to look into Castiel's blue eyes. It was easier than to deal with whatever was on the angel's lips.

Cas stood there, watching Dean run around frantically. He could not bear this anymore. The unnecessary tension, the awkward silences…he needed to know.

"Dean." He said softly.

Dean stiffened, refusing to look back. "What?"

"We need to t…"

"Don't you dare continue with that sentence." Dean flicked around to face Cas. "For the love of God, I do not want to know."

"But we must!" Cas's muscles tensed up. The childish behaviour that Dean was displaying was getting onto his nerves.

"No, we do not!"

"Dean, I want to know why…why are you so angry at me? Why all this aggression and anger towards me? The last time we saw each other, your eyes told me that you were ready to kill me if you had the choice. Why!"

"You wouldn't understand, ok!" Dean replied. He got to the stay where the respect for the dead was gone, stuffing the corpses back into the boxes.

"Then help me understand; help me understand what I did wrong? Help me understand why you have this hate for me!"

"I don't hate you," Dean said softly. "I never could."

"Then why did you tell me that you never wanted to see me again on that night."

Dean ran his ungloved fingers through his hair. "Look, I was angry, and I say things that I don't mean out of anger."

Cas was silent. He locked eyes with the Winchester brother and looked deep into his soul to see if he was indeed telling the truth.

Dean, without realising it, put his other hand on Cas's shoulder. "I am sorry for causing the fight the other night. I know you were just trying to help put me at ease about Mom and Jack, and I treated you like shit. I had no reason to be like that."

"I understand, and I forgive you." Cas nodded.

He felt Dean's warm breath on his cheek. That was when they both realised how close they were to another; close enough to kiss in fact, if one wanted to lean in closer.

"Um…yeah, we better leave."

Once they stepped out into the street, unbeknownst to them, was a silent creature waiting in the shrubbery. In one hand was a bow, and on the other hand, two invisible arrows. Quicker than a flash, the arrows left his hand and into the hearts of both of the hunters outside the police building.


	6. Chapter Six

"Son of a bitch!" Dean suddenly yelled before he got unlocked Baby. He clutched his chest as he doubled over. Castiel gasped as he stumbled towards the lamp. They both squeezed their eyes shut waiting for the pain to ease.

It was a sharp pain that pierced through his heart, nothing like Dean had ever felt in his life. Even being tortured in Hell did not bring around this type of pain. It was hardly a physical one he could put in his finger on.

Dean dared a glance at Cas, who met his eye. The strangest thing happened at that moment. A cool sensation bubbled up from the depths of his stomach and covered the burning ache as if it were a syrup soothing heartburn. Cas released his grip around the lamp-pole, and, without losing eye contact straightened his back.

"What...what just happened?" Dean asked. He unconsciously licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. Cas looked extremely beautiful through his eyes. More than he usually thought. His piercing blue eyes widened, his lips, once slightly chapped, reddened and smoothed out. All around him there was a golden halo blinding his surroundings.

In turn, when Cas looked at Dean, his senses heightened, more than usual. The hunter's smell of sweat and cheap soap amplified which, to Cas, who had lived with the boys' long enough, had rather come to like the smell. If he focused close enough, he could hear the quickened pulse, the fluttering of his eyelashes, the wind shifting through each follicle of the dirty blond hair. To be honest, Cas didn't know if it were Jimmy's human response like it was with Famine, or it was something he really felt inside himself.

"Um...I-I...don't know," replied Cas, "I wouldn't be surprised if it had something to do with this case."

"Yeah, me to..."

"I suppose we should get Sam...?" Cas said though it was apparent that he did not want to move anywhere.

"I suppose so..."

Silence...that was until Dean's phone rang. This snapped Dean out of his glazed-out state. He fumbled for his phone. His cheeks blushed violently from the very thought of that situation.

"Hey, Sam..."

"...Dean, Sadie, gave me some very interesting information."

"Mmmhmm...is that right?" Dean nodded towards the car, indicating that they had to get on their way. It took a second for Cas to get the message.

"Get this, Sadie said she knew the other victims. They all met at various times at Cupid's Arrow, a dating agency."

"A dating agency? All of them?" Dean said absentmindedly as he opened the door. His mind was only on one thing.

"Yeah, and guess who owns it."

"I dunno, who?" The ignition sparked the car alive. Cas buckled himself, not without sharing a few glances with his partner. The vessel's stomach twisted and turned as if it had life again. But that was impossible. Jimmy Novak was long dead, so how did he even feel this human function.

"Venessa and Marcus Curio."

"Alright then..." His voice faulted. Dean's brain didn't seem to be able to function properly. The only part that seemed to have any energy was the one sending a thousand pulses through to the tips of his toes and fingers. The energy radiated out from his soul to Castiel. Magnetic forces tugged his jacket, drawing his body across the seats towards Cas. Cas, unknowingly, found himself pulled as well. Neither hunter understood what was going on, but they didn't seem to want it to stop. They were more than happy to go along with whatever unnatural force was dragging them along.

"Um, Dean...you still there?"

This broke the boys out of their strange reality and back into the real world.

To an outside viewer, it would have looked quite comical. They were barely an inch away from touching lips, while Cas's hand was cupped under Dean's chin, and Dean's hand was unconsciously rubbing Cas's thigh up and down.

Dean got a shock at the position they were in, so shocked that he jumped in his seat and hit his head on the roof of the car. Cas recoiled back into the winded-up window and knocked the funny bone in his elbow. They both had the sense to blush and look away sheepishly.

"Uh, Sammy, yeah still here...um, we will pick you up now...and...and...um do the investigating and the such."

"Dean? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah perfect...absolutely amazing and everything."

"What did you and Cas find?"

"Nothing...! We didn't do anything!" Dean panicked.

"Uh...what is going on, Dean?"

"Nothing, just...just gotta go. I will pick you up in five minutes. Alright?" Dean didn't even allow his brother to reply before he hung up.

There was an awkward silence. Very awkward. Extremely awkward I would go as far to say.

Dean revved the engine before pulling out of the parking spot.

"What the actual fuck happened?" He whispered to himself before stomping the pedal down.

XXX

"Dean? Dean?" But there was only silence on the other side of the phone. Sam looked at the phone in his hand with confusion.

"What the hell?" Sam asked himself. There was something that happened between his brother and Castiel. Maybe some words were exchanged that should have been kept under wraps. Maybe, just maybe, Dean found some sort of confidence in his heart to tell Cas about how he really felt. Who knows?

XXX

It was dead silence all the way to the hospital. Dean nor Cas mustered up any effort to look at each other, even though there was this strong pull between them. Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his knuckles white from the pressure. Cas found an extraordinarily interesting piece of lint on the floor of Baby, so interesting that he happened to occupy himself for the rest of the drive.

Sam was waiting patiently outside of the hospital when he saw the familiar '67 Impala scream up to him. Cas and Dean out of the car and, with a sheepish expression on both faces, walked up to him.

"Hey, um, Sammy."

"Hey...Dean?" Sam lifted his eyebrows. "Is everything ok?"

"Yup, I just...uh...I just need to get something to eat...and drink, a lot of drinks, before we carry on, so I was...uh thinking we get some burgers to eat while you, er, you tell us everything we need to know. Right?"

Sam flickered his eyes from Dean to the angel then back to Dean. Something was definitely was going on. And, you know, Dean was right. A few drinks at the bar should soothe him right up.

XXX

An hour and three beers later (not counting Cas or Sam's amount), Sam had recounted his story that he had learnt from Sadie Pearson.

"Venessa and Marcus Curio had been running the dating agency for about twenty years now and still going strong. It has been said that they have never had a disgruntled customer in all of those years. During the Festival they are the most active since they do a deal, but that is beside the point. Sadie and Fae, Georgina and Ray, and the most recent Byron and Jamie had all been there at some point or another. Sadie said she met them a few times just after her appointment, but she never really talked to them."

"Well great!" Dean chugged down his last bit of beer. He concentrated on a spot on the wall, scared that if he faced one of the others, the words he had been holding back would tumble out of his mouth avalanche style. "Awesome. So, I say you and Cas," his stomach churned at the name, "go and find whatever Cupid's Arrow is, while I go and find Aryan Harrison."

Dean staggered up and walked through the kitchen door towards the garage. He could barely hold himself up straight while walking down the hallway.

Images from his eyes shook in front of him, making the world he walked on unstable. He stumbled around the place, knocking his elbows on the doors and stubbing his toe on the corner.

"Dean? Where are you going?" Sammy called from the doorway of the kitchen.

"I am going to find this Aryan Harrison while you and Cas go and find the dating place." Dean continued forward.

"You are in no state to drive," Sam said as he went to grab his brother. "Why don't you get some sleep, and we can do this searching tomorrow. Ok?"

"No! I need to do it tonight!" Dean pushed Sam away like an insolent child who wanted what he couldn't have. This gesture forced Sam to hold onto Dean tighter. Sam was getting a tiny bit annoyed at his brother. Ever since Cas had come back Dean had been acting stranger and stranger. Sam would ignore it because it was Dean, but now it was starting to mess with the case.

Sam pulled his brother towards the closest bedroom. He threw his drunk brother on the bed and locked the door behind them. The room held nothing of interest, except a lamp on a small side table and a crispy-clean sheet on a single bed.

"Sam? What are you doing? I am perfectly fine, you know."

"No, Dean, you are not." Sam sat down by Dean's side. "Something is going on between you and Cas and I want to know what it is."

"Nothing! Sam, nothing." Dean buried his head into the pillow, hugging it tightly against his face.

"No, not 'nothing'. You can barely stand Cas in the same room as you, you fought a few nights ago, and now you want to go down to the bar in town-don't deny it I know what you are planning to do-get massively drunk and find some poor girl to have a one-night stand with."

No answer from Dean.

"Why are you so angry at Cas?"

No answer again.

"God, Dean. Don't give me this silent treatment."

Sam pulled Dean over to find his brother snoring away, eyes lightly closed and limp body.

Sam rolled his eyes and decided that Dean was either going to open his eyes to a hangover or he was going to open his eyes the minute Sam left the room. Either way, it would still be getting blood from a stone, and, honestly, Sam was done with putting up with Dean's crap. He had to go to Plan B. Find what was going on from Cas.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

The next morning was not kind to Dean Winchester. He woke up in his bed back in the Men of Letters bunker, tucked in with only his shirt and underwear. Normally, he would consider how he had got there, but his head throbbed so badly that moving his eyeballs created an incredible amount of pain. Dean curled up into a tight ball under the blankets, hoping to block away from any intrusive thoughts about what had happened the day before. Did he try to kiss Cas? Did Cas try to kiss him? Did he actually...ugh...stroke Cas's thigh. God, what had happened to him that made him think that that was ok.

He wasn't into Cas. He liked females, women, ladies, chicks...whatever name you can give to the fairer sex.

Though that said...he wasn't against that time when Cas threw him against the wall to stop him running to Michael or the slight, and he meant slight, flirtatious undertones they both gave out to each other. Just thinking of these instances made his heart rate increase, and his mouth stretch into a childish grin.

What? No, Dean, no! Be normal! Be that person you have always been.

"Dean!" Sam called from the other side of the door. The extra pounding made from the knock did not help the intense, ache inside his forehead.

"It is nine, get up!"

Dean groaned as he pulled himself tighter under the covers. The pounding on the door was relentless.

"Sam, go away! I have a hangover from hell. Let me sleep."

The pounding stopped. "Thank God," Dean said. It was only for a second, though, because Sam's voice called again.

"Ok, fine, but don't complain that you didn't get a bacon bagel..."

It was all he needed to say to get the shuffling on the other side of the door into motion. Sam smiled since he knew he was going to die when Dean realised that there was only coffee and cereal awaiting him.

XXX

"Ugh, where is the bacon..." Dean began as he stumbled into the kitchen, with sunglasses sliding off his nose and one hand clutching his head.

He looked around at the empty table and the other two hunters staring at him.

"There is no bacon bagel, is there?"

"Nope."

Dean was too tired to be angry. There was just enough energy to show disappointment on his face.

"Then I am going back to sleep." He turned around to go back to his room.

Sam hopped up and grabbed his shoulder before he could leave. "Nah, you're not." He dragged his brother back into the room and handed him a glass of water with a pill.

Dean was more than happy to gulp it down.

"What we are going to do is that we will do our separate investigations. Dean, you so desperately wanted to find to Aryan Harrison, great. I will interview down at Cupid's Arrow, and Cas can stay here and do some research about the engravings on the heart."

"'Kay," Dean said, more than ready to put space between himself and Cas. Could it be possible that he was hit with the same thing as the other victims? Was it a powerful cupid's arrow of sorts that made them fall...ugh, did he have to admit it? Apparently not, since he was brought back into reality when his brother said:

"Anyway, we should probably start."

XXX

Dean stumbled along back to his room to grab his things for the much-needed shower. He sluggishly dragged his towel behind him with one hand and the other holding his clothes tightly against his chest.

It didn't take him long to strip and hop into the shower. He turned it on extra cold, and just sat on the floor. The water cascaded down his shoulders as he allowed his brain to reset.

He had had hangovers in his life, but this time, this time took the cake and the cherry on top as well. At least the pill began to work its magic.

Dean went into a type of daze, his head empty and completely void of all worries, just as he liked it. No thoughts in or out, only the sound of the shower to calm him down. Dean liked this. It was the only place when no-one barges in demanding answers through tears or horrific news to be told. It can all wait until he is done.

He finally forced himself to turn off the taps and to ready himself for his next hunt.

He dried off his hair and faced the mirror. Something caught his eye. On his chest, over his heart, there was a pulsating glow of gold. It was barely visible, but he could see the dimly glowing light.

"Shit." He whispered as he covered his chest.

XXX

An hour later, Dean had arrived at the edge of the forest. Many hikers had banded together for a relaxing stroll across the trail to the viewpoint.

No matter how many plaid shirts covered his chest, he still felt like everyone could see the pounding light shine through his shirt. They couldn't. They were all blissfully unaware of the real horrors that might befall them, they could be the next one to die. Who knows?

Dean took another path away from the mountain top to rather the darker side of the forest. He didn't know exactly where it was, but he knew it would be away from the typical tourist routes.

There had been rumours about this part of the forest. It was the usual 'it is haunted by a ghost of a dead serial killer' or the other 'a woman who took her own life because she was morning the loss of her husband'. Maybe they were right, except it was the most horrifying thing yet: human tendencies

Past gone were the leaves filtering in the sun, only now was the drenched mush of decaying, grey plants fighting each other to the right of sunlight. Dean was not going to lie, the deathly quiet of the place creeped him out.

Another hour had gone, and it was at this point he was going to give up. Just pack it in and go home, hoping the others did not have a wild-goose chase.

But, of course, conveniently, he spotted smoke wafting from a brick chimney from ahead.

This has to be it. I hope to God that this is it. Dean pulled out his gun and cocked it. He held it tightly in his hands, just in case it was needed. He quietly stepped towards the cabin.

Dean was expecting the usual abandoned cabin look: the whole cobwebs in the corners and splinted floorboards, maybe the occasional dirtied window pan, yet the place was spotless. It actually looked like Jody's cabin, just without any electricity.

Dean walked up the steps towards the door, looking around for any traps, and keeping out of sight of the windows. He planned to do what he always did. Barge in and hope for the best. Yet, again, to his surprise, the door opened up by itself.

Dean pulled the gun up and aimed it at the door when a thin, gaunt figure appeared.

"I have been expecting for this to happen," Aryan Harrison said. "I suppose you should come in."

XXX

Dean lowered his gun and looked at the man with surprise.

He looked like the complete opposite to Ray: tall, thin with shaggy black hair and pale skin. He stepped back to allow Dean to come in.

"I assumed you are here to kill me." His voice was deadpan, devoid of any emotion, or at least positive emotion. "I won't blame you if you do."

"I am here to find some answers," Dean said.

Aryan sighed. "I suppose you are. I will tell you everything. It is not like it matters anymore."

"What?"

Another sigh.

"Just come in, and I will explain everything."

Dean was sceptical, but he had walked into worse traps than this. And, anyway, Aryan was a human, or at least he thought he was. It could be a lot more horrific, he supposed.

He gingerly walked into the room, gun still clutched in his hands. It was a simple place, the cabin. No décor or excessive objects. Just a small gas stove, a sleeping bag and two stools.

"Make yourself comfortable." Aryan pointed to one of the stools. "And I will tell you everything."

Dean sat down on a peeling bottle-green stool that had seen better days. Aryan sat down and began the story without any wish of getting to know who Dean was.

"It all began ten years ago when I first met her. She had just arrived in town from New York, wanting to move away from the big city life to work on her novel. I saw her around this time, the Festival of Love. She was wearing a green dress with sparking clips in her hair. I fell in love within an instant. Unfortunately, my brother did as well.

"He was always the most popular in everything. Maybe it was due to the fact he was named after a famous author and I was named after a genocidal race that set us on our course in life. He had all the girls he ever could have dreamed of. He was the one with the college fund and went on to be a football coach to some school out east, while I was lucky to get a job at the grocery store. At least I finally managed to get in the army, away from Arrowsmith.

"Anyway, I was tired of my brother going first, so I went and introduced myself. She did the same and from then on, we dated for about a year. Our relationship ended when I went off to Afghanistan. We didn't break up before, but our relationship just didn't work out. We both loved each other so much, but it just happened to not work in our favour. Somehow, she was with my brother. She was having trouble with relationships and went to a dating agency. My brother 'happened' to be there and somehow, they went on a 'blind date' The day I got back, she told me that she was engaged to him. The worst part was that they expected me to be just as excited as they were."

Aryan stopped, giving himself time to think, and how to say it without emotionally breaking down.

"Anyway, I went on as if we never happened. I was the best man and supposed godfather to the child she was expecting three years later. Except it didn't happen. She miscarried in her second trimester. It turns out she wasn't able to have children. It was then how our affair began. She pitched up to my house, crying. What was meant to be comfort turned into...well...sex?

"For the last six years, we managed to keep this under wraps, meeting out of town, booking into motels, coming to his cabin. She used excuses that she was visiting publishers and my excuse was that I was in and out of Iraq. It worked perfectly. My brother was gullible; never knew anything that was happening around him most of the time.

"A couple of days ago, I proposed that we elope to Hawaii, I had enough funds, and she had her book deals, we could make it, but she said no. She told me that it was time we stopped. She said that she was in love with me but she made an agreement, till death do them apart. She told me that I had to stop my dreaming and realise that the most we were ever going to get were going to the city for a weekend. She left the bar, breaking my heart yet again. I was angry until I realised what she said. 'Till death do us apart.'"

"So, I spent some time thinking on my plan to kill him, not even stopping to think that he was my brother. One day I happened to pass their house and I felt this incredible anger within me. I stopped, hopped out and grabbed my gun from the boot. I smashed through the door to see them sitting quietly watching a movie.

"I pointed my gun at them and shouted. I don't remember what I said, but I remember the aghast look on Georgie's face and the confused on my brother's one. She tried to stop me, but I shot my brother point-blank in the stomach. She was scared, even when I tried to tell her it was for our good. She tried to pull the gun away from me, but I didn't let go. We battled until I smashed her head on the corner of the counter. I felt my heart breaking, physically hurting me. So, I ran here.

"Now I came here to sit and to wait until someone showed up to arrest me or to kill me. Though the latter is the most appealing at the moment."

He stopped, his head bowed, ashamed of his actions.

Dean was quiet. All this information, and only a tiny bit relevant. He must have been hit with this other arrow and his love for this girl drove him crazy enough to kill. Dean had seen it before. Yet there was only one question he had to ask.

"When you first saw Georgina, did your heart fell physical pain? Like it suddenly burst into flames."

"Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Just a guess." With that, Dean got up and wordlessly left the depressed man to his final days.


	8. Chapter Eight

Meanwhile, Sam drove down to the Cupid's Arrow...

The building that stood in front of him was...interesting. It was not exactly what Sam thought a dating agency to look like. It rather looked like an entrance to a Roman temple. If Sam remembered correctly, the design of the columns was Doric. Or were they Ionic? Whatever they were, they were certainly not modern.

They were made out of pure marble; even had the smooth feel to it. Engraved into the face of the building was the name of the business. The building was extremely out of place in a world where neon signs flashed pink and yellow, every alternative turn was a woman's leg moving up and down, and plastic-covered signs was the fashion of the season.

But, he supposed, it is a place called Cupid's Arrow. Maybe they wanted to give it a realistic feel?

He walked up to the wooden door that swung open as if it were a door to a saloon. Inside was exactly like the outside of the building: fronds potted around the place, stone benches pushed against the marble wall. It was completely empty, the room, except for a bored receptionist playing what Sam assumed was Candy Crush on his phone.

He did not even notice Sam walk in, clearing his throat for the receptionist's attention.

"Hello..." Sam looked at the receptionist's nametag, "Janus?"

"Mmmhmmm. Here for an appointment?" The man said without looking up from his phone.

"No, actually I wanted to speak to the owners of the place. Is there any chance I could meet them?"

"Not without an appointment."

Sam sighed. He hated when he had to use his false authority to get into difficult positions, yet if it had to be done, then it had to be done.

"My name is Detective Granger," Sam flashed his fake id, "and I am in the middle of an investigation about the murders of the five victims..."

That was enough to get the man off of his phone. He gave a sickly-sweet smile.

"Oh, why didn't say so!" He pressed one of the buttons of the intercom. "Venessa and Marcus have been waiting for you, Detective."

"They have?" Sam asked. He was confused. Why would they be expecting him?

Did they have something to hide, and they were preparing their excuses and alibis in advance?

"Yup!" Janus said with enthusiasm.

"What is it, Janus?" The voice from the other side said. Judging from the harsh tone and bored voice, this must have been Venessa.

"Detective Granger has arrived. He wishes to speak to you, ma'am."

There was silence on the other side of the intercom, then a sigh.

"Alright, send him in."

"Yes, Mrs Curio!" Janus nodded towards a sturdy wooden door to the left of him.

A golden plaque with silver writing saying 'Venessa and Marcus Curio'. The writing was in that New Times Roman font. You know, the one that was used in the early 2000s with a slight Latin tinge to it.

"You may go through, Detective."

XXX

The office was exactly what he would expect, judging from the rest of the building. Mini sculptures of a child cupid placed on Romanesque columns, pointing a stone arrow towards the heart of the guest were dotted around the office. There was very limited colour throughout the room; even the two seats in front of him were grey as the statues, and Venessa, dressed in a black dress similar to those mothers at funerals and hair tied up in a tight bun. The only colour he could see was from the computer in front of him. They were the gold stickers of arrows pasted across the frame

"Sit down, please Detective." She said.

Sam did as he was told.

"I am surprised you do not have your partner with you."

"He is questioning another suspect."

"I suppose this is Aryan Harrison?" She leaned back in her seat, fingers interlinked.

Her calm demeanour unsettled the hunter; the way she just said the man's name nonchalantly and the fact that (only God knows how) she knew Dean's mission.

"How...how did you..."

"Know?" Venessa cut him off. She gave a chilling laugh that sent shivers up Sam's spine. "My dear Detective, I know everything. From one source or another, I find out. It also helps that my son happens to have nothing to anchor his tongue down. Nothing is secret in our house if Eric hears about it. That godsdamn child..." She stopped her self and breathed. "I am sorry for that outburst, Detective, it is just that with these murders going around and his loose lips...I am afraid something might happen." She shook her head. "But you haven't come to hear about my problems, now. How can I help you?"

"Right...uh..." That single show of strong emotion that leapt out of her had knocked Sam off the train of thought. The chilling sensation that he first felt crept up his body at a forceful temperature.

"Um, so all of the victims have used this agency before, correct?"

"Yes."

"And they all met each other at one point or another during their visitations here?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Detective, I am only concerned with the clients within this office, not out. Janus might know, but I think not since he sits out there playing on his phone instead of doing his job!" She said those words with an accusatory tone directed at the door he came in as if Janus could hear her annoyance.

"Would your husband know?"

"I have no idea, you will have to ask him." She said.

Sam looked around, awaiting the explanation that he assumed she would provide.

Nothing.

"And, uh, where is Mr Curio now?" Sam asked.

"Marcus is just finishing his coffee break, he should be joining us now."

God, I hope so. I cannot stand being in here with her. I have been asylums less creepy than this room.

Within that minute, Marcus Curio burst through the door behind Sam. His white suit had coffee stains on it and his dark hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed. The contrast between the husband and wife could not be sharper than they were.

A professional wife with the dishevelled husband: what a more unlikely couple.

"Darling! You would not believe how difficult they are. Cupid's arrows are not working on them. Cupid's arrows!

So incredibly stubborn those two!" He was throwing his hands dramatically in the air, eyes everywhere except on Sam and Venessa.

"Marcus, dear, we have a guest." Venessa Curio said calmly.

Marcus looked down to meet Sam's eye. His flushed face darkened even more.

"Detective Granger, I did not see you there," he said as he walked over to his wife. He gave her a peck on the cheek before sitting down on a second chair hiding behind the desk.

"Yes, love," Venessa said. "The Detective here was just asking some questions pertaining to the victims."

"Ahhh, right. We were expecting you."

"Why were you expecting me?" Sam asked. He may have had theories but it was always best to ask.

Marcus laughed. "I have seen those crime shows. All the victims have something in common and it just happened they all were matched here."

Sam nodded, but there was something that bothered him about the couple, especially Marcus. It was too...simple. All the answers were planned as if they rehearsed it. They did say that they were expecting him, but it just didn't feel right. They didn't feel right. Especially what Marcus had said when he walked into the room. Cupid's arrow?

"So...uh...Marcus, what we're talking about when you mentioned Cupid's arrow, just before you walked in."

Marcus and his wife looked at each other. Then they burst out laughing. But not ha-ha laughter, more like forced laughter.

"Oh, don't worry Detective. It isn't a drug. I was just setting up a client with a date who we thought matched well. But they are having a bit of...difficulty accepting each other. So, a Cupid's Arrow is just a type of special we offer here with clients. It is like a day out we pay for, like a spa or lunch, where they can get familiar with each other."

"Maybe they just don't fit?" Sam said. It seemed weird that a dating agency would force a couple to like each other. Surely, they would at least try a few people to see the best match?

Marcus shook his head. "The surveys are never wrong; we have a hundred per cent success rate with our method. No, it is just that sometimes the couple refuses to accept each other. In this case, it is two men who are convinced they are straight, you know how it is sometimes..."

I sure as hell do.

"... but anyway, you are not here about the live ones. Ask away the questions that you have."

XXX

Sam spent the rest of the morning asking the usual questions, and receiving the usual answers:

No, we do not communicate with them outside this office.

No, we have no idea about the clients' outside life either, whether they made friendships with our other clients or not.

Yes, we have no complaints or returning clients.

A hundred per cent success rate.

Those victims were nothing special.

Each person came a few times, then at the end, they came together to pay their accounts.

Yes, it is true that every single one got married, or is planning to.

Clients often send emails saying thank you letters, and even invitations to their weddings!

In the end, the only thing that stood out to him was the beginning. The creepy way Venessa knew about Dean, the familiarity that Marcus shared as if he knew the hunters personally. But the part that stood out to him the most was what Marcus said when he entered the room. That did not sound like a coffee break to him. And the Cupid's arrow? The only rushed explanation out of all of the answers.

He would have just had to see what Cas had found. Hopefully, he had a bit more luck than him.


	9. Chapter Nine

Castiel was flipping through the pages of The Nymphs of the Vardar River, not very particular interested in the contents of the pages. He had another rather pressing thought in his mind.

Unlike Dean, Cas accepted the fact that he was in love. He was an angel, and the only reason he is even called 'he' is that his vessel was a man. His sexuality was not defined by human standards, and that never was the problem. He had an inkling within himself about the nature of his love towards Dean, but he never felt so strongly about it as he did then.

That was not the problem, though. What was the problem was not that Dean was going to die, he had a thousand times before...literally. The problem was when Cas died, he would stay dead. He did not think that the Empty would be so nice again and let him go free. Dean would go crazy as it is, doing stupid things that would start another apocalypse on Earth just for him, but if they were together...as the humans would say... the parting would be just a little bit worse.

He rubbed his hands on his face. The pain they felt, this sudden love, was this connected to the case? Cas had no idea what a Cupid's Arrow felt like, and why they were specifically targeted. And who in his Father's name was shooting them? It was certainly not a rogue angel, but some other creature with incredible power. Could it be Lucifer out for revenge, but that wouldn't explain the Ancient Greek. It had to be an ancient witch, like Rowena, who had learnt some powerful magic over the centuries, but why?

He had read all the ancient texts that they had in the bunker. Nothing was the result. Except for maybe some of the titles relating to the gods.

Cas got up and walked over to the shelf, running his fingers over the leather-bound books. There were subjects about every single thing one could imagine could relate to the gods of ancient times, yet there was only one that caught his eye.

Tucked away in the corner of the bookshelf was a thin book with a barely visible heading. The cover was dusty and the pages so old and thin that it would crumble under a pinch of a finger, like a butterfly's wing.

"Romance of the Gods," Cas read aloud. He waved his forefinger across the cover. Pages flipped open immediately, passing stories like Hera and Zeus, or Juno and Jupiter depending on what you prefer, and the Goddess of the Hunt, Diane/Artemis, changing men into stags when they attempted to rape her. But what caught his eye was the story of Eros and Psyche...

"Oh, my God," Cas whispered out loud.

It wasn't just any old Cupid's Arrow, it was the Cupid's Arrow.

XXX

Dean came home first, as much as he hated it. In that giant building was Cas alone, wearing that stupid coat that never seems to need a wash, and his beautiful smile that lights up the whole room, warming it up by his piercing blue eyes...

Stop it, Dean! He chastised himself. Be an adult for God's sake, and pretend that you never squeezed his thigh. It is the only rational way of getting through this.

He took a deep breath and entered the bunker.

XXX

"Cas!" He called out, "Cas! I, um, found some stuff out about Aryan Harrison."

His mind had conflicting thoughts as he made his way down the stairs. In one way, he wished that Cas had decided to go for a walk or the such, but his other side of his mind was that he really, really, wanted to see him.

He cleared his throat. "Um, Cas. Where are you?"

The sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen did not relieve his anxiety. He had regret about opening up his mouth. All Dean wanted to do now is run far away, yet he couldn't. In fact, his feet automatically moved forward to the direction of the noise.

Castiel popped his head around the corner. Like usually, Dean could not tell exactly what was going through the angel's head. Not even a twitch of a smile, or a look of disgust. Nothing.

"Hello, Dean," he said coolly. Those words, those two goddamn words hit Dean every time. It was soooooo stupid, since about a thousand other people say the same thing to him, but it was the way that the angel said it that send shivers down his spine.

"Um...hey Cas," Dean's cheeks blanched. "So, um, I found some stuff about Harrison that might be good...uh...clues to what we are tracking." Dean fiddled with his fingers. "He had it bad for, um Georgina, and I think he was under a spell by whatever we are tracking, or um something." Dean didn't want to say Cupid's Arrow, he didn't want to say that he found the correlation between the pain felt in his heart and the slightly glowing pulse under it. He was convincing himself that it was a witch's spell because we all know exactly how witches are.

"It wasn't a spell, Dean. Well, not in the conventional sense with witches." He turned towards the stacks of books and pulled up his laptop. With a quick tip-tap of the keyboard, he pulled up a web page. "We are dealing with a god."

Dean looked into the entry:

Cupid, also known as, Eros, it the god of love in both Greek and Roman mythology. He is usually depicted as a naked child with wings, holding a bow and arrow. It is unknown exactly who is his parents, but many believe that his mother is Aphrodite, or Venus, the goddess of beauty and his father, Ares, or Mars, the god of war.

He is famous for his arrows. In the stories, he is known to have two types of arrows: one that is lead and one that is gold. The former creates a hatred towards a target, while the other creates an overwhelming desire for a target.

Dean felt his heart race. It wasn't just any cupid. It was the original Cupid. That explained the engravings on the hearts, the stronger magic emitted from the chest, the madness...

Oh, God! The pain they both felt was a Cupid's Arrow. A Gilded-Tipped Arrow. They were both hit with a golden arrow. Which meant...they was...they were...

"Oh, hell no!" Dean exclaimed, backing away from Cas and the laptop. "No, no, no, nonononononononononono..."

"Dean, calm down..." Cas reached out to him, but Dean swatted his hand away. No touching meant no confirmation... "This can't be happening! It is not happening! I refuse to believe this!"

The hunter turned away from the angel and sprinted up the stairs and out of the bunker. Cas called after him, but it was all a waste of energy: Dean was a man stuck in his ways, and an idea that he could possibly love another with the same...appendages, was absurd. No matter how much he felt it, it was not going to happen.

At the same time, Sam entered the bunker the moment that Dean exited. Sam has pushed away from his brother, hitting his back against the concrete.

"What the hell, Dean!?" Sam called out, just as Castiel reached him. Dean continued forward, muttering the same phrase over and over again. Before they knew it, the hunter hopped into the car, played Led Zeppelin at full volume and sped away.

Sam turned to Castiel with an inquisitive look upon his face. "What is the name of everything God created is going on?"


	10. Chapter Ten

"So, let me get this straight. You and Dean were shot with not just any Cupid's Arrow, but the ancient god's one? I mean I had an inkling about the killer, but I didn't realise it extended this far. Why do you think it was aimed at you two?"

Castiel sighed. That was a good question. Why would it be aimed at them? What exactly would Cupid achieve from doing this? To slow them down? To taunt them? It didn't make sense. But then again, nothing at that moment made sense.

"Look, Sam. I have no idea why he is targeting us. I didn't know till now that he was still alive. Ever since humans began to Christianise the old religions, he and his wife were missing. To him, his name was bastardised by the people on Earth. He was no longer the God of Desire and Erotic Love, he was now regiment of pure children who would one day be pasted on cheap, manufactured Valentine's cards. The Cherubim adopted his name ever since. I just, I just, cannot believe he is here."

Sam was quiet. It was a surreal experience that he was thrown into. He had experienced Gabriel killing Dean in creative ways (Asia has forever been ruined for him), he has been in Hell, possessed by Lucifer, pitched up in an alternative universe where he was a popular actor married to Ruby, and even went through a hallucinogenic where he was on a haemorrhoids commercial (not to mention getting to play the starring role of KITT), but one thing he never thought would ever happen was Dean admitting his feelings for Cas, never mind the fact a Greek deity took an interest in their love lives.

Cas downed the last of his beer, and without another word, he walked back into the library. He stopped hesitantly turned around and said:

"Sam, um, I know it is awkward, but please talk to your brother. He won't listen to me, not at the moment anyway, and at least convince him to come back. I will try," Cas sighed sorrowfully, "to find a way to break this spell."

XXX

Dean sat at the edge of the narrow single bed, naked. His shirt was twisted into a ball along with Iris's spaghetti-strap top, and all bunched down at the base of the bed. Iris herself was in the en suite bathroom, showering before her late afternoon shift.

With his hands rubbing his face, he began to reflect on the moments that brought him up there, in a motel room at half-past two, with a woman he barely knew applying eyeliner next door. He didn't remember much, it was a bit of a blur, and it happened so quickly.

He remembered automatically driving to the bar. He remembered taking a few shots and telling everyone the next round was on him. He remembered Iris, with her sultry hooded eyes and her thick bleached braids hitting him when she suggested that she was on her hour break and if would like to join her. He remembered grabbing her hand as they sprinted to the other side of the street to the nearest motel. He remembered that they barely had entered the room before all clothes were stripped off and the bed was a location.

What he remembered the most was that only reason he managed to get hard was that he imagined Iris as Cas.

He hated the very thought of it. Sure, he had lightly joked with Cas in a sexual manner, and sure he would sometimes wake up from a hot dream with his bed damp, but surely everyone did that. Right? Right?

But now there was no excuse. He was literally hit straight in the heart and these feelings he had repressed for so long had bubbled up to the surface. Not just feelings. No. There were the memories that floated to the top of his subconscious...

Sometime in 1995

"God, it is good to get away sometimes."

The scene presented was Dean and another boy, about the same age, at the edge of a small lake in the middle of Wisconsin. In one hand was a beer he had stolen from the convenience store, and another a piece of apple pie the redhead next to him brought.

"You're telling me. At least your family doesn't make you sit through ten minutes of prayer before you get to eat cold pork." The boy fiddled with a smooth rock in his hand, before skimming it across the water. Dean counted the skips. Three in total.

One thing Dean could say was that never happened. They never stayed long enough in a place to get a cooked meal. And God? What did God, if he was there, deserve to get praise from.

This kid next to him was probably the closest he had gotten to a friend for...well he had no idea how long. They met one day when they happened to be reaching for the same pack of beer, and for that past week, they were inseparable, or as much as they could be without Dad finding out

Dad was off on another hunting trip. Werewolves were wreaking havoc close by, and goddamn were they a large pack. Dean was meant to stay at home for a little babysitting job while Dad was away, but Sam...he was just getting too much. He promised to get him some candy if he sat tight for an hour or two. The need for human company outside his own family was worth the risk he took.

"You know, Si," Dean broke the silence after a sip of beer. "You have two more years before you can get away from them. I, on the other hand, seemed to be stuck in the family business."

Si shrugged. "I wish it were that simple. Mam and Pa want me to move back to Ireland for college. That is the only way they will pay for any education out of school." He picked up another pebble and threw it hard into the lack. An audible plop sound resounded around them.

They both sat in silence, watching the moonlit ripples lap at their feet. Dean looked at Si, then back at the lake. An incredible urge came over him.

He hopped to his feet, dusted his pants and announced. "Well, I am going for a swim."

"Dean, it is like below freezing in there," Si said, getting up.

"I did not say you had to join me." He stripped himself down to his underwear and ran into the water, throwing caution into the wind.

Si laughed as he saw the chattering teeth of the Winchester boy pop up from under the water.

"Join me!" Dean called, trying to keep the shiver out of his voice. "I promise you it is nice."

Si kept laughing while he pulled his tee over his head and throwing off his shoes.

For the next ten minutes, they splashed each other, raced to the other side of the lack, and attempted dunk the other.

At one-point, Si and Dean found themselves face to face, a few inches away from each other's mouths. The tone changed from the exciting thrill to a calm, nervous stop. Neither moved in nor did they move away.

"Dean," Si breathed, and even if the water was icy, he could feel his cheek heat up.

The only response Dean gave back was a swift kiss on the other's lips. It was warm and felt just right. Si's arms encompassed the young hunter's body and it was not long before they were past a point of no return. That is until Dean heard a voice that made his heart stop.

"DEAN!"

Just as he slowly turned around, seeing his father with a shotgun, no doubt filled with silver bullets, in his hands and a furious expression on his face.

XXX

Dean remembered Dad pulling him out of the water by the ear, screaming about how dare he leave his brother at home alone. Just as they were out of Si's earshot, who scrambled back down the forest, he remembered the words he was told:

"I cannot believe you are...gay." He said the word as if it were a bitter lemon squeezed into his mouth.

After a few hits across the face, he continued to beret him for the fact he was kissing someone of his own sex. He would have respected it if the person in question was a girl, but another boy. That was something unthinkable.

He never saw Si again, since after that night they were backed and ready to leave.

The bathroom door squeaked open, snapping Dean out of the memory that flooded his mind. Iris strolled out, naked and with a confident stride.

She flashed a smile at the hunter as she leant down to pick up her shirt and jeans.

"I must say, darlin', I don't think you have ever delivered as much as you had today." She put her bra on and dropped her top over her slim body. "The shower is all yours, now. I hope to see you again soon."

After the last of her clothing was upon her, she winked a flirty wink and left the room.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Sam gripped the steering wheel as he drove down to Woodcutter's Arms. No doubt that was where Dean was now: drinking his day away and, no doubt, finding some poor girl to have sex with just to prove something. The more he thought about the childish actions of his brother, the more he wanted to strangle him.

Cas was in love with Dean, even before Cupid got involved, and Dean was in love with Cas. Castiel did not want to go and find a way to break this connection they had as much as Sam wanted to watch it all go to hell.

"No," he decided. "I am refusing to let this one go. I am refusing for Cas to lose his happiness because of my moron of a brother."

XXX

It was not difficult to find Dean. It is never difficult when you see the Impala sticking out like a sore thumb around the newer models of Mercedes and Toyotas. Not mention Dean staggering out of a motel across the road with his shirt inside-out. It doesn't take a genius to figure what that meant.

Sam drove up to the curb where Dean slumped against the lamppost. Sam rolled down the window. Dean saw his brother and quickly jumped up.

"Dean, please just get into the car. I need to talk to you."

Dean, against all expectations, walked over to the other side of the car, opened the door, and quietly got in. Sam was actually surprised at this change of character. The usual process would be that Sam would shout a lot, Dean would shout a lot, and even though Dean would have driven home in the Impala, nothing would have been resolved. This usually gave him time to think of something meaningful to say, and they would hug it out, waiting for the next event to occur.

They, for two full minutes, stared silently out the windscreen of the car. Dean eventually gained the courage to look at Sam, and just before he sobbed out his heart, he choked out the words:

"I'm sorry Sam."

Sam flung his arms around his brother and squeezed tightly. He did not ask any questions, nor did he even expect any answers; that was just Dean's way.

"It is alright, Dean, but it is not me who you need to apologise to."

Dean pulled back, looking bashfully away and nodded.

"Sam, before we go, I need to tell you something. Something that happened over twenty years ago."

He took a deep breath in and blurted out what had happened between him and that poor boy Si all those years back. He could barely speak when he got to the part about their father finding him.

"And ever since that day, Dad would glare at any boy who would even give me a second look. When you were still little, and me and him had just finished a mission, he would take me to strip joints. He lied about my age to the bouncer, make me watch hours upon hours of naked women strolling up and down the stage. He even bought private behind-the-curtain lap dances, but that would not compare to when he would call prostitutes over to our motel when you were asleep on the couch."

Dean turned to Sam, who at this point, started to understand questions that plagued his mind when he was little: waking up to his dad smirking outside a closed-door as he heard the creaking bedsprings go, the little gasps and moans. He remembered as sleepy as he was, asking John what was going on and where Dean was. All he was told was that Dean was learning to extract information from demons, and he had to go back to sleep. Sam, in his naïve state, knew something else was up, but through the years he left to study law, it was not the most important thing on his mind.

"Don't get me wrong, Sam. I enjoyed it. Hell, I began to love it, but no matter how much Dad tried to force me to stay on the straight and narrow, there were always times when I would meet eyes with some guy and have this feeling deep into my stomach. Somehow, I stopped myself because I knew that even if Dad was dead, he would find a way to beat the living crap out of me.

"Then Cas came. He pulled me out of Hell, and ever since I have had these little thoughts that pop into my head. The more I have been with him, the more I want him, but that means the more I stop myself from going forward. Sam," Dean turned around to face his brother. His face was blanched a bright red, dotted about with tear stains. This only made his shining green eyes stand out brighter. "Sam, I am in lo...lo..."

As much as Dean tried, he couldn't seem to get the words out, but to Sam, that was enough. He put his hand on his brother's shoulder and smiled.

"I think it is time to go home, don't you think."

XXX

Dean and Sam arrived back to the bunker with their respective cars. Sam was sceptical about the idea since his brother literally just told him that his father tried to make Dean have sex with hookers to get rid of any bisexual thoughts. God, that was so thing John would do. He could not imagine what Mary would say when she would hear about it. Sam was going to make sure she knew everything. Her son being bi would not shock her, she obviously knew, but hearing about what John did to him...that is something she would not be able to forgive. Yet, Sam knew better. Dean had to get into his car in perfect silence to be able to calm down his mind.

Dean arrived back at the bunker first. Sam told him that he might as well get some supplies while they were there. They both knew that that was code for 'I am going to give you two space to talk', and Dean was grateful for it.

He pulled up outside the bunker, and that was when he felt something wrong. It was the feeling he had just before he would go into a nest of vampires, or infiltrate a coven of witches. It was an unsettling feeling he had learnt to listen to.

He whipped out his gun from the car and clutched it in both hands before he opened the bunker door. It was silent, but that did not mean that it was empty. The silence made him more nervous because he knew that Cas would have heard him pull up, and he would have greeted him at the door.

"Cas? Are you there?" Dean's voice echoed throughout the bunker. No reply. He gripped his sweating hands on the gun's handle, "Cas, I just want to talk to you about...well, everything. And I just want to say I am sorry for everything."

It was then when he heard a laugh. A sinister one; one that you would have heard in horror movies.

"Oh, Dean Winchester!" A deep, gravelly, disembodied voice rang around him. "I am positively happy that you have finally accepted who you are!"

Dean waved his gun around wildly, hoping to find where this voice echoed from.

"Who are you and what have you done with Castiel?!" He shouted.

"Awww, isn't that just sweet. You are just so cute when you are all protective of your boyfriend."

"Who the hell are you! Answer me!"

There was a chuckle that reverberated off of the walls as he got to the desk where all of Castiel's research books were spread around the tables and the floors.

"Oh, honey, you know who I am."

Dean lowered his gun. "You are Cupid," he said. "The one who started this all. Why are you doing this?!"

A figure apparated in front of him. It was a figure he had come all too familiar with.

"You are Cupid. You. I don't believe it!"

The figure nodded, "oh yes Dean Winchester. I am surprised you didn't get it earlier."

"What do you want!" He raised his gun again. "And if you don't talk, I will use your face as target practice."

"Oh, Sweetie!" The figure laughed again. "You cannot kill me with one of those silly little things. You should know better since you have killed my grandfather. And anyway, I wouldn't suggest you do such a thing since I know where your little Cas is, and if I am gone, he will stay there. I think it would be in your best interest to put down the weapon like a good boy and come with me."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I have this," they held up a small box with a little button on it. "I push it and your Castiel will go BOOM!" They cackled maniacally. "But if you come with me and we speak like adults, I might reconsider it."

Dean looked at his gun. He had to speak to Cas again, even if they die because he needed to tell him everything. He had to!

He dropped the gun on the floor and nodded, "I will come with you."

The figure grinned, and with a snap of his fingers, they were gone one second before Sam walked in.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Mere moments before Dean arrived at the bunker...**

Castiel was in his room surrounded by candy wrappers and chip packets. He had chocolate smeared across his face as he stuffed salt and vinegar chips into his mouth.

He was an angel with grace. He did not need to eat or drink, and it took a shop full of alcohol before it even began to have any effect on him, but there was something about taking a fistful of jellybeans and shoving it into his mouth that made him feel good. It was not the taste of it that felt good, for they all tasted like he was eating a particle sandwich, but it was the texture of the sweets that made him feel snug and secure.

It was a very rare occurrence when Cas would binge eat, in fact, he hadn't done it in years, yet this sudden urge bubbled up inside of him just as Sam left. It was that horrible butterflies-in-stomach feeling; the whole unknown hours ahead of him when Dean, if Dean, came back.

The very thought of Dean forced him to shovel the tub of slightly warm ice-cream down his throat. That was when he felt it. A tinging electrical force that raised the hairs on his arm.

Cas wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, while his other hand reached across his side table to grab his knife. He jumped up and shook away all of his wrappers.

"Oh, Castiel, you don't need to present yourself to me," a voice, as we now know as Cupid's, whispered throughout the room.

Castiel spun around; his hand clutched tightly on the handle of the blade. He heard a laugh. A light one, a childish one.

A figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a young boy, not older than thirteen with the stereotypical curled blond hair. In his left hand, he held a red heart-shaped lollypop. To an ordinary human with no understanding of the other world, this kid would look like an innocent child, but Castiel could see past the façade. He could see the electrical energy radiating out of the figure in front of him.

"You must be the one we have been looking for," Castiel said not at all phased. "The original Cupid."

"Ding, ding, ding! And the point goes to the angel in the trench coat." Cupid stuck the lollipop in his mouth and crossed his arms.

Castiel rolled his eyes as he straightened his back. "What do you want with me?"

"You, nothing. Your crush in plaid, on the other hand, is not as lucky."

"Why? He has done nothing to you."

Cupid laughed again. He walked up to Castiel and patted him on the back. "Don't worry your pretty head about it," he whispered. "All shall be revealed soon."

Before Cas could even open his mouth, Cupid clutched his arm before they warped away.

XXX

**Now**

The place where Dean appeared was not what he expected. He thought it would be the usual villain lair with dun grey concrete walls and floors stained with blood and symbols. And torture devices. Who could forget torture devices?

But instead, he got a large room covered in décor ranging from vintage, pop art pictures of Madonna to strung-up, cut-out, cardboard hearts. In the corner where a string quartet, all dressed in white suits with pink bowties. Their milky glazed-over eyes told Dean that they were not there out of their own free will.

In the middle of the room was a table for two which was decorated with rose-scented candles and crystal wine glasses. On one end was an empty seat, and other end was Castiel, dressed not in the usual suit and trench-coat. He now wore a black jacket with matching pants, as well as a bow tie. His hands were chained to the arm of the chair. Dean looked down at his own body to see that he too was dressed the same.

Cas and Dean locked eyes. An overwhelming urge to run to him slammed into his body with such a force that he tripped over his own feet.

"Cas!"

"Dean!" Cas shouted as he rattled his hands to try and slip through the handcuffs. This only made it worse, as the size of the cuffs seemed to squeeze around his wrists.

"I don't suggest that you struggle. Those handcuffs are based on Chinese handcuffs: the more you try to get out of them, the tighter they get."

He grabbed Dean's collar and dragged him towards the dining table. Cupid threw the hunter into the chairs and waved his fingers over the handcuffs. They magically clasped themselves over his wrists.

Dean looked at Cas across the table. Again with the surge of energy that automatically made him struggle to reach the angel. There was a hunger he felt for Cas, and he could see it in Cas's eyes, but it did not last long. The handcuffs tightened their grasp on his wrists.

Cupid tutted as he shook his head. "You know what your problem is Dean. You don't listen, but then again it is not really your fault. The spell I cast on you does have its side effects, such as forty-eight hours of intense lust. I mean, I do commend you for restraining yourself for so long. No many people have that type of will."

Dean glared at the boy standing over them. Cupid ignored him; instead he dragged a chair over to sit at the table.

"Does your mother know about this?"

Cupid smiled, which just made Dean madder.

"Yeah, she does, even though she was the one who was a bit sceptical at first. It was Dad's idea actually, you know, being the god of war and all of that. None of what I managed to accomplished would have happened if it weren't for my parents, who are always a lover for a good ol' fashion revenge story. Anyway, enough about my parents. Tell me, Dean, what about Mother Mary and Father John? How are they?"

Dean felt his blood boil at the sound of his parent's names, especially after Mom disappeared and the dredge-up memories of his father.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Dean spat out

Cupid smiled as he leant over to stroke Dean's face. Dean squirmed in his seat. The feeling was repulsive, and if Dean wasn't changed to the chair, he wouldn't hesitate to slap the child's face.

"Oh, but I do. You see, I have had a long history with your family. Like when one of them slaughtered my only love." His demeanour changed from the snarky brattish child to a person who had only revenge on his mind and hates in his heart.

He saw the disbelief on their faces and nodded. "Oh yes. She killed my beautiful wife, my poor Psyche."

"She?" Dean asked. He could believe what the god was saying. "What do you mean by 'she'?"

Cupid raised his eyebrow. "Your mother, of course. She was the murderer who killed my best beloved."

XXX

_CUPID'S ARROW_

_Hello Lucky Customer!_

_Hand in this coupon at our front desk and you may receive a prize. What is on offer:_

_Fifty per cent off when you purchase a Deluxe Package_

_A thousand dollars_

_An exclusive spa treatment_

_Just hand this to Janus and say "Golden Arrow" to receive your prize!_

_Good Luck!_

Sam stared at this card. He found it next to Dean's gun on the table in the hall. He knew two things for certain: Dean would never leave without his gun, and this card was not something that Cas would have brought home.

All the suspicions he had were confirmed. It had to be one of the Curio's who was actually Cupid. The other one had to be Psyche. These murders were one big ploy to get his brother and Cas into some sort of trap.

Sam clutched the card as he ran back to his car. There was no time to waste. From what he saw with the murders of the other, he could easily tell that they were not in for a typical romantic evening.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"Ma'am! We have a visitor to see you!" A voice sang over the intercom. Venessa and Marcus grinned at each other. Their plan was working surprisingly well. Trap one, and the other will come swimming along, taking the bait.

Venessa barely had the chance to press the button before Same barged through the door. In one hand he held a dagger, but not any dagger. This to the non-supernatural eye would look like a child's play-thing: a flat, wooden knife that's tip was barely thinner than the base. But in reality, it was one of the most dangerous things in a god's presence. The dagger was fashioned out of an olive branch from Greece, (just one of the things lying around the Bunker), the tip stained with a mixture of lead and blood from the heart-broken, (something Sam sure had in excess).

He gripped the handle of this dagger tightly, his eyes focused only on the couple in front of him.

"Where is my brother, Cupid!" Sam jumped over the desk, spun around Marcus and stuck the knife against his throat. Marcus and Venessa gave each other a side glance, not batting an eye and to Sam's surprise, they burst out in laughter.

Sam was not expecting such a response. He expected at the very least a squirm, or fighting back, or even a little help from his wife, who just stood there and watched. He pushed the sharpened edge of the dagger harder, forcing small beads of blood to form at the base.

"What is so funny, Psyche?" Sam growled through his teeth.

Venessa responded. "Oh, dear Sam Winchester. My husband may be behind the wooden stake, but you are on the wrong end of the stick. He is not Cupid, nor am I Psyche. If you want my son, you are looking in the wrong place."

This caught Sam by surprise. He loosened his grip on Marcus, which was his first mistake. Marcus flipped Sam over and slammed him onto his back. Pain crackled through the whole of the body. The shock of the slam disorientated him enough for Marcus to signal to Venessa to grab handcuffs that she hid in the draw.

"Since you are so desperate to see your brother, we will deliver you straight to him," Venessa grabbed a wad of cloth to use as a gag. "Bow wrapped and free shipping. Isn't that right, Mars, my love?"

Marcus…Mars…grinned at his wife. Just before he knocked Sam out, he said:

"My dear Venus, you couldn't be more right."

XXX

Just above Sam's unconscious body, in a soundproof, brightly coloured room, Cupid stood in front of two bound men readying himself for storytime.

"What do you mean that Mary killed your wife?" Cas said. Dean was within a deep shellshock state. He imagined his father to do something like that, but his mom? Why didn't she tell him? Something like that would be important to mention.

"Oh, my dear Castiel, it is simple: Mary Winchester took a sharped olive branch and struck it into the heart of my innocent wife. You know, Psyche did not lift a finger against your mother's family, Dean but it happened that she was just another supernatural being who breathed in a mile radius of her."

Cupid flicked a knife out of his pocket, bent down and slowly dragged the tip down Dean's face. It was not hard enough to release blood, but it was enough to make him wince.

"You lie! My mother would never hurt someone who doesn't pose a threat!"

"Now, maybe, but not when she was seventeen, but don't worry your pretty little head about it. Once your brother arrives everything will make sense."

Once those words left his mouth, he heard a thud behind him. The god turned around to see his mother and father dragging the knocked-out Sam across the floor.

"Oh, speak of the Devil, here he comes!" Cupid rubbed his hands with glee with the sight of the hunter. He rose up from the floor and strode to Sam.

"Sammy," Cupid began as he slapped his face to wake him up. "Wake up, little brother Winchester."

A groan came from Sam's throat, as he began to slowly twist his head from side to side. One eye fluttered open, then the other. Cupid pulled the cloth out of his mouth.

"You? Eric? You are Cupid? You are the one who is responsible for all of these deaths!?"

Cupid signalled to his parents to lift the younger hunter up. They, without another word, grabbed the arms and dragged him towards the other chair that Cupid sat on before Sam arrived. Sam tried to struggle but Cupid laughed.

"Sammy, Sam, Sam. You really are a dunce if you try to fight against the god of war, but, then again, you did not realise that Marcus and Venessa are names that are super-duper similar to Mars and Venus."

He clicked his fingers and the straps of the handcuffs tightened themselves around his wrists. Cupid stuffed the wad of cloth back into his mouth. Sam shook his head in protest, struggling away from Cupid's touch, but it didn't stop the inevitable.

Once that was done, Cupid walked up to the quartet. He whispered in the conductor's ear, and the hypnotised man just nodded his head. He tapped the stand where his music notes stood and began a solemn melody.

"Now, I think it is time why I gathered all of you here today. It all began back in '71…

XXX

It was our yearly trip around the USA, my wife and I. We would drive across the country, going from here to there, by ourselves. In the end, we would visit Arrowsmith to celebrate the Festival of Love. We always preferred it to, ugh, Valentine's day.

We were tired, you know, once we got to Lawrence, Kansas. We had never stayed there before, and it is only so long that sleeping in the car can give you rest. So, I booked ourselves into a small motel for the night.

The thing is, you know, that gods do get hungry, and we are not going to refuse a good bottle of beer now and again. Simply we went down to the closest bar for a drink and a nachos to share. And that, my friends, was my first mistake.

I should explain that my wife and I were not in the childlike appearance you always saw in mythological picture books; we were, in fact, in the form of two, young adults. My wife was in her natural form, like the one that I fell in love with, and it was one of the most beautiful forms she could ever be in. Unfortunately, that is what most of the other men at the bar thought as well.

She was harassed all evening. Men would come up to her, making crude jokes and drooling over her beauty. I tried to defend her, as much as I could to still make myself appear as a mortal man, but that just made it even worse. They shifted their focus onto me, where they began to push me around, and cop a feel with Psyche.

Now, you must understand that as the son of Mars, I have inherited some skills that are difficult to combat, especially since they are combined with Mother's powers of beauty and love. So instead of rushing into battle as my father would, with a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, I used my bow and arrow to strike at the hearts of every single one of the men. Some of them I shot with a golden arrow, to make them full of lust, while the other half, they were recipients. I shot them with a lead arrow and the rest was up to magic. I played the same trick on Apollo when he began to be too big for his boots. It was an absolute maelstrom of men chasing after each other. It was hilarious until it got too much.

Some of those shot with the lead arrow were so distraught that they committed suicide rather than facing their other half. Once that happened the other half-killed themselves out of a broken heart.

Now, as you see, even though I managed to drag my wife away from the craziness of the bar and drove as far away as possible, that didn't stop your grandparents finding where we were.

It is strange how back in the day before the internet and Wikipedia, hunters were more…what is the word…alert to their surroundings. They had to rely on their senses and that inspired them to move faster. Your grandpa was one of the best.

In the night, back at the hotel, found me in a state of restlessness. I went for a walk, which turned out to be my second mistake. I left my vulnerable wife all alone in the room when out. My stupid brain told me that she would be alright. My dear darling wife to be safe.

When I came back, the door was wide open. I sprinted in to see that the room was a complete mess. Sheets were tumbled up everywhere; clothes ripped and thrown onto the floor.

I called for Psyche, but there was no response. But there was a neatly handwritten letter giving an address and instructions. I didn't even bother with the car. I flew there.

It was an abandoned factory like it always is. I needn't describe the place: I am sure you have seen many in your lifetime. The chains and torture devices and the rusted dead machines. You know the type.

When I arrived, my darling wife was within some sort of entrapment device. Since she was a born mortal, then ordained a goddess, her power was not as strong as ours. A simple handcuff with an enchantment cast over it was enough to hold her down.

When she saw me, she tried to scream, but her screams were muffled like her voice was pulled away from her throat. I know now that she was trying to warn me to go; not just for my sake, but for her as well.

The Campbell family crawled out of the shadows a hearing her alarm. They were armed to the teeth with every magical weapon you could think of. Then Grandpappy Campbell came out with the usual, "who, or what, are you?", "why are you here?" blah blah blah.

I told them the truth, which was my third mistake. They then knew how to carry out our execution: names are power.

And then that was when it happened. Mary Campbell stood next to her father. She may have portrayed a horrified expression, but that didn't stop her from listening to her father. Her daddy told her that she should have the honour to kill the first god they have ever found. They shoved a wooden pike in her hands and pushed her towards my wife. Sure, she resisted, but she fell to his brainwashing and did the most horrible: she asked him if she could take Psyche to a private room. Granddad Campbell was pleased as punch and allowed her to go to another section of the factory. When she has pulled away, it was the last time I saw her pure face. But it wasn't the last time I heard her scream out in pain.

Your namesake, Sam, was rubbing his hands with glee at the thought of taking out two for the price of one. I may have been entrapped in some sort of spell, but the anger I felt in my veins overcame that weak fucking spell that your pathetic Grandfather cast. It created a shockwave, you know, that knocked out every single one of them, plus the glass windows. I ran towards the room where my wife should have been, but all I found was an unconscious Mary covered in blood with a pile of ash that was once the person I loved.

I know what you are thinking: why didn't just kill her and the rest of your family then and there? Well, I was not stupid. I knew of the plans that your precious God had for you, and I could not risk a whole bunch of angels on my ass, and hey, what was the fun of that?

So, what I did was wait. I watched your family carefully and decided that it would be more fun to dictate your love lives. Do you know why everyone you fuck dies? Well, that is not because of a prophecy from God or something; it was from me waiting in the wings. Jess was not from me, but the rest of them were. I especially enjoyed Becky when I planted a seed in her pretty little head and convinced a demon to join me. Watching you two get married was a lot of fun.

And Dean, I knew all about your bisexuality since before you were born, which was why it was super fun to play around with you. Every time you made eyes at a guy, I 'directed' your father towards you. I wanted you to feel sick to your stomach and deny yourself up to the day your father died. From then on, it was all on you.

Of course, that began to fade away, especially when little Castiel came to the rescue. When I watched you two first meet, I just knew that huge plans were waiting for you. And I used it to its full potential. My mother and I placed an enchantment on the both of you that whenever you had the urge to kiss, instead of endorphins running through your blood, it was a poison of my concoction. It made you sick to the stomach and send guilt and hate through your body. But that got tiring after a while.

Since God is now out of the picture, as well as most of your friends, as well as no big plans for you, I now decided that it was my time to shine. It was brilliant that you had found a little house nearby Arrowsmith. My life was made easier. All I had to do was to take some of the victims I played around with when I was bored and used them as bait. Done and done. And now, here you are.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Are you finished," Dean said after waiting a minute for Cupid to shut his mouth.

Cupid flipped his head towards Dean and just gave him that irritating smile. "It looks like our little friend Deano is still masking his feelings through humour. I get it. Imagine if I was told that my mother was not the precious angel everyone makes her out to be, but then again, I always knew Mother was a conniving witch."

"Thank you, my dear." Venus placed a kill on the youthful god's cheek before she started to unbind the gag from Sam's mouth. The urge to struggle was strong, but each of the three victims knew that only pain could come from resisting the touch.

"That being said, my mother might have literally sent her to the Underworld and back, but not once did she ever plan to kill her."

"Only to slightly humiliate her and make her suffer."

"Exactly, thank you, Mother. So, now with this prior knowledge, I hope you can understand why I now have to kill you. You should since revenge is the only language the Brother's Winchester and your pet angel speaks."

Cupid hopped up on his feet and signalled for his mother and father to join him. Dean had to hold in all in him to not struggle against the bands around his hands. And for the first time in his life, even after all he had been through the crap he had endured, like being trapped in the not-so-holy Trinity of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, he actually felt that this was the last time he would ever be alive. No more re-dos; no more lives. This was it.

"Now, I shall give you three the same treatment your mother gave my wife. My mother here will make each and every last of your breaths that you have ever breathed."

For the first time in a long time, it was Cas who spoke. "We have suffered worse in the hands of better."

Cupid laughed as he whipped out a knife that he hid in his pocket. The tip of the knife was pressed against the taut neck. Slowly he added pressure; beads of blood formed on the ridge of the blade.

"Oh, you may have been possessed by Satan himself, but you have never felt the metal forged by Vulcan himself on your skin. You have never felt the God of War's hand delivering the punishment, to begin with, and let me tell you, you wished that you still had whatever satanic power on your side."

The god pushed the blade harder that elicited a cry from Sam. The blade felt like it was covered in acid heated to a thousand degrees. The sound of this groan sparked some protective instinct in Dean. No matter how painful it was, he began to struggle against the bonds that held him down.

"Stop it!" Dean yelled. "Just leave him alone. He has done nothing wrong!"

The once jovial grin that decorated Cupid's face diminished in a favour for a hard, hateful expression.

"Well, your mother failed to stop when my wife did nothing wrong! Now you know how it feels like!" Cupid stood back and nodded to his parents. Venus moved to Sam and Mars made his way to Dean. They both had their own set of specialised weapons: Venus was bestowed with thorns from her sacred flower: the red rose. Obviously, there was a lot more than an ordinary rose, since these thorns were fattened with a potion concocted by herself. They were a type of love potion that dredged up the memories of lost loves and the emotions with it. Since Sam has had saddening experience with romantic interests, it would not be hard. It was a simple experiment to prove that one can, indeed, die of a broken heart.

Dean, on the other hand, was now the plaything of the strongest warrior of Olympus. His weapons catered to a bit more physical pain; something more extreme than he had been tortured within Hell. He was covered in the symbols of his strength: his helmet on his head; a spear in one hand and a flaming torch in the other.

"You think the inferno was bad? Just wait until this fire comes into five inches of your skin, you are going to wish that you were back in the godforsaken pit."

Sam, Cas and Dean looked at one another with expressions of absolute fear and even worse, surrender. Before the chosen weapons were used on their hopeless victims, Dean gave Cas one last look and said:

"I love you."

Cas barely had the time to reply before the knife was plunged down...stopping a half an inch before impaling his chest.

XXX

To understand this sudden diversion, you must know that while Psyche was enduring the horrendous trials from Venus, she had been impregnated by Cupid. This child was born soon after the couple finally reunited and had almost a happy ending. This child was a girl named Hedone, or the Roman name we shall use, Volupta.

Not much is written about this girl in the myths, and the only contribution to society is providing the name to Hedonism and creating the word "Voluptuous". That is probably because she was never one to intrude into the drama of the deities.

What we do know is that she loved her mother and father more than any being in the world, and when her mother died, she was torn up from the inside out. She lost contact with her vengeful father and focused only on finding a way to resurrect her mother. And we also know is that the eight-year-old girl standing behind the three torturers was in fact Volupta

XXX

"STOP!" Volupta screamed just as the mother, father and son were about to stab their chosen humans.

She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that she saved hunters in time. It was close though. Too close.

Cupid whipped around to focus on the blonde-haired girl. She, like her father, enjoyed the comforts of being a human child. It was easier to blend into the crowd.

"Volupta? Is that you, my daughter?" Cupid dropped all instruments that he held in his hands and sprinted to hug his girl. He squeezed her tightly causing her face to turn a bright red.

"Gods, I thought I would never see you again! Ever since your mother died, I thought I lost you too," he planted a kiss on her face.

"It is alright, dad. I am fine," she pushed him away from a little harsher than she meant, but Cupid was overcome with too much joy to even notice it.

"Talking about your mother, I have finally trapped the perpetrators...or at least the spawn of the perpetrator."

"I know Father, that is why I am here."

Cupid slapped his hands together with glee, "so you want to join us, honey. I don't think your Grandmother minds you sharing Sam."

"No, dad," Volupta gripped his shoulders. "That is not..."

"Say no more, darling. I understand. Castiel is a better one. Dean will scream more if you kill his boyfriend."

Volupta became more frustrated with her father. She understood he was blind with hate, but she didn't realise that he was at this point. The only way she could get her point across was to fling it in his face.

"YOU ARE NOT LISTENING, FATHER!" Volupta screamed. Such as shock caused even Mars to drop his devices. "YOU NEVER LISTEN! IF YOU COULD PLEASE SHUT UP AND LET ME SPEAK, THAT WOULD BE GREAT!"

She had to take a breath in to cool herself off. Nothing would be accomplished if she acted like their generation of gods.

"Thank you. I came here to tell that I spoke to mom and she is not pleased with you at all. In fact, let her tell you all about it."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Cupid was about to protest when the ground under his feet shook. The cutlery and plates rattled upon the table; even the quartet phased out of their hypnotised state.

The three hunters squeezed their eyes shut, but even with closed lids, the light penetrated their pupils. The deities themselves shrunk away from the blinding source of light. Volupta was the only one who held her head straight up with no sign of fear.

The shuddering stopped almost as immediately as it started, yet now there was a spectre of a woman standing in the space that should have been empty. From head to toe, she was covered in complete white: even her hair strayed from the natural blonde, and her body was as pale as the toga that covered her. Like her daughter, she held her head high with a majestic elegance that only a goddess could manage to pull off.

She turned to the cowering Cupid and smiled. He, on the other hand had no other expression than total awe and amazement.

"My darling, my wife!" He exclaimed after the paralysis dissipated. Psyche turned to her husband and smiled. She welcomed her into an embrace with her outstretched hand.

"Cupid, my love. Come to me."

It didn't take much coaxing for Cupid to scamper to her side. He opened up his arms ready for a loving embrace...only to be met with a harsh slap to the face. For a woman who seemed so ghostly, she certainly was solid.

"What in Pluto's name was that for!" He cradled his cheek in hopes to sooth it.

"That is because you have become an asswipe. The man who I fell in love with is not the same man in front of me."

"But...but I did this all for you, my dear. I am finally taking revenge on those who hurt you."

Psyche put her hands onto her hips. "So, you thought that what I wanted was for you to become obsessed with some poor boys who have had nothing to do with this. Not a nice funeral where you would take my ashes to Olympus and give them a proper burial? Or in fact, taking time out of your life to spend with your only child? How are you such an awful father that my daughter decided to serve over fifty years in the Underworld just to get a chance to talk to me?"

Cupid was silent.

"Huh, that is what I thought. Now, I suggest that you unbind the hunter's wrists or I will make sure you are the one who cleans up Cerberus's cage after a bad meal when you die, ok."

With a click of his fingers, the binds fell away from Dean, Sam, and Castiel's wrists. The blood rushed back to their fingertips as their hands' colour faded from a dark purple back into a natural peach.

Once they finished with the wrist rubbing, Dean lifted his head and caught Cas's eye. Those feelings that he had felt deeply before spread wildly throughout his body, except this time he did not feel that barrier that kept him from acting on them.

He ran around the table and almost tackled Cas to the ground. Castiel had to grab onto the back of the chair to stop himself from tipping over completely. Dean didn't notice. He just held as tightly as possible to Cas as if Dean released him for just a moment, he would slip away forever.

It took a few seconds before Castiel free his grip from the chair and wrapped his arms around Dean. Dean buried his face into Cas's shoulder.

"I thought that you would die. I thought that you would return to the Empty and I would never see you again." Dean whispered through tears that fell down his cheek.

"You know that would not happen. Somehow, we would find our way back to each other again," Cas broke free from the embrace and cupped Dean's face. Dean found himself leaning into the touch, then resting his forehead against the one he could admit was his true love. "Team Free Will cannot stay dead for long."

"Oh, my God, just kiss already!" Sam's voice trickled into the little bubble they created.

They turned their heads to see a couple of smiling faces. Even Mars and Venus dropped their weapons of torture and locked themselves in their own embrace. It seemed that it was only Cupid who was pouting like the salty child that he is.

Dean blushed at the stares. He found himself grinning awkwardly at the crowd. Cas, however, gave zero fucks. He turned Dean's head and kissed him.

It is enough to say that it was one of the best Dean had ever experienced. Cas's lips were soft, and, strangely enough, had a bit of a chocolatey taste to them. He pushed himself deeper as if he were desperate for every inch of his body.

The barrier that Cupid put around Dean had dissipated into nothing and it felt amazing. If he finally died for real, he would be happy.

After a few moments, they lifted themselves away from the passionate moment they needed. Cas kissed him on the forehead and whispered:

"I love you, too."

XXX

After a few more kisses and embraces, Dean and Cas walked towards the spectre of Psyche, hand in hand I should add. As much as they wanted each other, the curiosity of Psyches presence overcame that need.

"We are grateful for your arrival," Cas began, "but why are you here?"

Psyche smiled at him, "well, it is quite a story. It all began back on the night I died. I suggest you all sit down, and maybe, honey, you send your musicians there back home. The last thing I want is to have them pay for therapy for the rest of their lives. Anyway, back in 1971, I'm sure Cupid told you all about that night, but what he didn't tell you is what happened after Mary Campbell took me to the separate room.

After we were alone, Mary advanced on me with the stake. I was fearful, and that is the truth. I truly thought that that was how I was to end. Not by my mother-in-law, but by an inexperienced hunter who wanted out of the crap life she was handed.

I squeezed my eyes tight, not wanting to see the branch stabbed into my chest, but I felt the rope tied around my wrists loosen. I turned my head to see the young girl cutting away my binds. She was furiously hacking away at the rope with a knife with the branch leaning on the chair in the middle of the room. "We need to get you out of here before they notice," she said after releasing me from my bonds. "I don't know about your husband, but I can at least save you."

I'm not going to lie, but I was surprised at this girl. She was so different from the brutes outside that room.

"Why are you saving me?" I asked her. And her response was this:

"I am not murder, and there is no way that I am going to start now. Now go! I will distract them as long as possible."

She started to scream, whimper and beg. She threw things around to sound like she was torturing me. Mary looked at me with pleading eyes to tell me to go, but that was when it happened.

XXX

You, my dear, sent a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. That includes me and Mary.

Now here is the clincher. Remember that I told you that the wooden stake was standing upwards. Well, I flew back and was impaled by that stake. Mary ran to my side, doing everything to stop the bleeding, but we both knew it was hopeless. I felt no pain, even when my body turned into ash. Mary was beside me every second, whispering comfort words that she truly meant until I found myself within the depths of the Underworld.

You know, Cupid my love, I found it strange when Volupta told me that you fled from the scene, leaving it to Mary to perform the final rites. She even buried me with coins to pay my way across. Unfortunately, they were American coins, but she was still thoughtful enough to try. Persephone rescued me and allowed me to be a handmaiden while she was in the Underworld. The rest of the year, well, I tended to her garden as well as other odd jobs.

Our daughter did find me after you completely cut her off. I told her the same story you now heard and she told me about your stupid plans. I heard from her that she tried to reach you to try to stop them but it fell on deaf ears. After a few decades of convincing Death, Thanatos, or as you call her Billie, she allowed me to be revived because of some universal plan that is in store. And now I am here, saving you from my idiot, dumbass of a husband.

XXX

"You, you mean...I was the one who killed you?" Cupid whispered. His whole world seemed to collapse around him. Everything he did was for nothing and for the first time he was the only person to blame. He felt like that branch was shoved into his own heart, dissolving it into nothing.

Psyche rolled her eyes. "Honestly, is that the only thing you can think of? Yes, you killed me, and the only reason the gods haven't punished you for killing your kin is that they have their own problems at the moment." She turned to the hunters who were visibly relieved at the thought that their mother was not the murderer that Cupid made them out to be. "I never thought that I would see the sons of Mary Campbell. You know you are just like her: brave, strong, and the most important fighting for what you believe in. Whatever you do, stay together. You three have more battles ahead, and the only way is to hold onto the morals you have been for so long."

"Thank you, Psyche," Dean said.

"Oh, before I go. Volupta please hand them the gift."

The daughter nodded. She dug around in her bag that slung across her shoulder. She brought out her hand, and in it, she held a round object covered in a silken cloth. Castiel reached out to take it. To his absolute surprise and delight, it was the object that he had been seeking for so long: the pomegranate; the Fruit.

"Oh, my! Thank you! Thank you so much!" He gasped. Psyche just smiled.

"It is a tradition that a god bestows a hero with a gift to help with his journey. Say hi to your mother from me. Anyway, I think it is time for me to leave."

"Wait, what? Where are you going?" Cupid exclaimed.

"Back to the Underworld, but don't worry dear, you are coming with me. You have not let off the hook so quickly."

She reached down to hold Cupid's hand, while in the other one was her daughter's. She closed her eyes and chanted a few Greek words before disappearing in the same blinding flash she appeared in.

XXX

THE FOLLOWING WEEKS

The story of Cupid and the hunters draws to a close, but I shall not leave without wrapping up a few loose ends:

The Cupid's Arrow Agency closed within a few days of the incident. All that was left was a note saying that the Curio family had to leave. This, of course, was brought to the attention of the authorities who decided that they were the killers. But, alas, they were never caught.

Sadie Pearson fully recovered from her injuries. She too also left, to hope that she could start a new life somewhere with fresh memories. And she did. Sadie became an owner of a boarding house that catered to abused children. In the process, she met another woman, Kerry, a social-service worker. They have been on a few dates, but she still has to go to therapy to sedate the nightmares that keep coming back.

Aryan was not caught by the police, nor was he followed. He, in fact, he became a trainer within the force. He finally changed his name to George, in memory of the one who he lost, but now he has found peace within himself.

Cupid and Psyche both live in the Underworld, but it is not as bad as it sounds. Cupid still is being ignored by his wife, but through their daughter, they are knitting back the family he lost. In order to purify himself from killing his wife, he has to do a few drastic chores, like cleaning out the doghouse.

But what about our heroes themselves? Well, Sam, Dean and Cas are one step closer to finding out how to rescue their family. Sam can now not kill girls with his dick and is even forming a healthy relationship with another hunter.

Cas and Dean...well they are slowly getting the happy ever after they wanted. They are more in love than ever, even more than when Cupid shot the gilded-tipped arrow. Every night they find happiness in each other's arms. They both know that there is going to be a battle ahead, a bloody horrible one at that, but nothing can get in their way now that their bond is stronger than ever.


End file.
